The Time and Space Job
by A Lyrical Dreamer
Summary: Formatting issues fixed for Chapt 70, where Abby spends time not getting into trouble with Sophie. Part 3 in the Time, Twists and Turns Series. A series of stories as season 4/5 progresses
1. What They Do Part 1

**So, I'm back! This is going to be lots of stories together as the series progress, starting with the Boiler Room Job.**

**Title of this fic taken from songs by the Cinematic Orchestra and The Accidental (different songs, same title) which I am planning on integrating later on in the story**

**Please let me know what you think and let me know if you have any requests and if anyone wants to join in the in the creation of this story, let me know, I might be open to it. =)**

Grifter

Nate cleared his throat and put his hand on Sophie's leg, urging her to stop "What she's trying to say," he cut in. "Is that it's not your fault."

"No but it is," the client began. "Most special needs schools are private and charge huge tuition's. Our school runs on grants and donations. We started the investment fund as a way to get out of the red. Bake sales just aren't cutting it these days. Without any money, our doors will close in three months. And those kids are gonna have nowhere to go."

"We won't let that happen," Nate assured the woman, just as Abby walked into the bar, grinning as she texted on her phone and, with Eliot-like spatial awareness, avoided every person and obstacle in her path, despite the fact that she did not look up from the device.  
>Sophie excused herself from the table and walked over to the teenager.<p>

"Who's the boy?" the grifter enquired.

"What boy? There's no boy?" Abby replied in a manner which would have convinced anyone other than a seasoned grifter.

A seasoned grifter would have also been able to get out the name of said boy in a matter of seconds, but, realising that Abby was growing to be more like family and not a mark, she did not press; if Abby wanted to tell her she would tell her.

"No matter," Sophie dismissed. "Some people just don't understand the elegance of a con. How much work and satisfying a proper grift can be. Likening us to common criminals, honestly," she huffed. "I'll show her."

"What?" Abby said, genuinely confused.

"Nothing darling," she replied off-handedly and the two began their walk up to the apartment.

"Hey Soph?" Abby asked after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah."

"I get what you do," she began as the pair of them walked up the hallway and paused in front of Nate's apartment as Sophie rambled in her purse for the key. "But I don't get how you do it."

"Well," the grifter began, placing the key into the lock. "People, every person, has a desire, has a want; everyone has something you can exploit. You use that exploit to get what you need."

The pair of them pushed the door open, both dumping their bags on the kitchen bench.

"But how does it all come together?"

"That, well, that is Nate's department," Sophie replied. "Goodness knows what goes on in his head to make it all work."

Hitter

"Uh oh," Hardison declared sitting at the bench in Nate's apartment.

"What?" Eliot growled.

"What?" Sophie exclaimed simultaneously, more panic in her voice than Eliot's.

"Nate's comm went off-line," the hacker replied, worry in his voice. Abby looked up from her homework as Eliot straightened up and tensed slightly, then jumped into action.

"Check the camera's at his last known location and then track it," Eliot instructed. "Abby take your comms out."

"What?" she asked.

"Don't argue Abby," the hitter replied and the teenager did as she was told.

"Okay, okay," Hardison stammered then let out a breath. "Camera's show he was nabbed by Sherman and his driver. Location's on your phone."

"Make sure she's stays offline," the hitter said to Sophie as he left, shutting the door behind him.

"Got it man," Hardison replied for the grifter as Eliot shut the front door behind him.

"Nate's going to be fine yeah?" the teenager asked after several minutes had past and, though unbeknownst to her, as Eliot arrived at Nate's location.

"Of course he will," Sophie said.

"What? Yeah," Hardison replied simultaneously. "This guy is hardly dangerous and Eliot has never let anything happen to any of us."

"What do you know about dangerous guys Hardison?" the hitter asked as he walked into the building.

"The guy is named after a fish," Parker pointed out.

Hardison ignored both of the comments. "Don't worry," he reassured. "Nate is fine," he said convincingly as he heard the masterminds' groaning on the other end. "See what'd I tell you!"

The teenager gave him a questioning look.

"Nate just woke up," Sophie explained realising Hardison hadn't remembered the girl wasn't wearing an earbud. "Nate, Eliot's in position," she said to the mastermind.

"Then why did Eliot make me take my comm out?"

Sophie paused for a moment, making sure everything on the other end of the comms was alright, then redirected her attention to the teenager.

"He's just," she began then paused. "He knows that this job is harsh sweetie. He's trying to protect you from the things that we, that he, was exposed to. He's just trying to keep you from getting hurt," she finished.

"Because it's his job to protect us," Parker added innocently. "And because you're super special to him, he wants to protect your head as well as from getting physically hurt."

Sophie was about to query Parker's insight when she was distracted by a statement made by Sherman on the other side of the comms.

"That's funny, 'cause you're sleeping with her. I see it," the mark declared.

Parker and Hardison's eyes widened out of surprise as they gave Sophie an astonished look.

"What happened?" Abby enquired. "Can I have my comm back."

"Hell no!" Eliot stated firmly.

"It's in your body language when you're together," the Mako continued. "It's in your eyes when you look at her. You two have a carnal relationship."

"See, he's just trying to rattle Nate," Sophie stammered in an attempt to defend herself.

"You did say he reads people better than anyone you know," Parker pointed out; Sophie looked sheepish.

"Y'all nasty," Hardison declared.

"I'm so confused!" the teenager exclaimed.

"Oh, Nate and Sophie are having sex," Parker stated blatantly.

"Really Parker?" Eliot complained.

"A little finesse would be nice," Sophie stated under her breath.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>


	2. What They Do Part 2

Thief

"Abby!" Parker yelled from across the room, tossing the teenager her jacket.

"Yeah?" Abby said, snatching the jacket from thin air.

"Come help me," the thief pressed, waving Abby out the door.

"Are we gonna go steal something? Because Eliot might kill you."

"What, no. We're buying monitors with a credit card," Parker replied, pulling the plastic card out of her pocket and flourishing about.

"Is it your credit card?"

"Is now!" the thief grinned. "And besides, Eliot's in Ecuador." Abby paused for a few moments, considering her options and then pulled on her jacket.

"Let's go."

* * *

><p>"So you're the thief," Abby confirmed as they entered the warehouse of a local computer sales company.<p>

"Yes."

"And you steal whatever the team needs; do break in for jobs and whatever?"

"Pretty much," Parker replied as the pair turned a corner to face a tall, large man in a high-visibility vest and hard hat.

"You're not meant to be here," he began. "You need to leave."

"We want to buy computers," Parker said.

"Then go to one of our conveniently placed stores," the man replied as he began to lead them out.

"But I want to buy 150 of them," Parker stated and the man paused.

"150?" he asked, confused.

"Yup!" Parker replied.

"Right this way," he said as he led them in another direction.

"Please don't tell Eliot I did this; he will ground me for a year," Abby said quietly to Parker.

"Tell Eliot what?" the thief grinned.

* * *

><p>Ten minutes later several workers were loading the last monitors into Lucille, overseen by Abby while Parker stood face to face with the manager.<p>

"How would you like to pay for that miss?" he enquired.

Parker grinned and pulled out the card which she had stolen from Sherman's driver. "Credit Card please," she smiled as she handed the man the plastic while the workers shut up the van.

"I'm going to make an assumption," Abby began, jumping down from the passenger seat in the van. "That you normally don't pay for these things?"

"Well, I don't steal them. Because that would mean taking money out of somebody's pocket and stopping hard earning people from making a living," the thief began, almost certainly quoting Sophie or Eliot. "Usually I pay out of the Leverage work fund. But if I can make the bad guys pay, well, that's even better."

* * *

><p><span>Hacker<span>

"Did you know that, from the outside, your job is really boring?" Abby declared as she spun herself around on a computer chair, waiting for Hardison to finish his cyber heist.

"But from the inside, it's awesome is what it is!" he defended stylishly.

"Can you teach me?"

"How to hack? You must be outta your damn mind; your uncle would fillet me like sad, sad fish."

"About computers," Abby suggested alternatively. The hacker paused and thought for a moment.

"That I could do," he grinned and began to walk the teenager through the basics of what he was doing as he finished up transferring the last of the Mako's money. "That's what I'm talking about."

"That's aces," Abby praised, genuinely impressed.

"Man, that ain't aces," Hardison began, leaning back on his chair. "Aces is like, hacking into the CIA and stealing their money, not that I've ever done that, or hacking into the TAA and changing a plane's flight path. There is a whole world of aces which you are yet to experience," he finished proudly.

"Sounds… ace," Abby concluded.

"Damn straight," the hacker replied.

"So hacking into a school network, for example, and moving classes around,"

"Hypothetically," he interrupted.

"Of course," Abby agreed. "That would be easy, no?"

"Like taking candy from a hypothetical baby," Hardison said as he smiled. "Hypothetically, what would I be changing?"

"Hypothetically, could you change my classes around so that I get most of the afternoon off?"

Hardison held up his index finger and turned to his computer and, after a few minutes of typing, lent back on his chair, his hands folded behind his head.

"It's done Ace."

"Hypothetically of course?"

"Of course," Hardison replied, playing along. "Now you should go wait in Lucille before feds get here because I do not want to suffer the wrath of Senor Spencer."

* * *

><p><span>Mastermind<span>

Through the monitors in the van Abby watched intently, wondering how exactly Nate's plan in the boiler room was going to unfold. Finally, when the FBI did burst into the room, it made perfect sense as she could finally see how all of the pieces fit together.

And, at that point she was thoroughly impressed with the extent of Nate's abilities; with the extent of the team's abilities and what they did.

"Awesome," she declared softly in awe as the Mako's driver made a break for the door, only to be stopped dead in his tracks by Eliot. Bad idea, Abby thought to herself. Then the man tried to hit Eliot. Okay, that was a really bad idea.

_ "Thanks man,"_ Eliot said sarcastically. _"That's awesome; I hadn't hit anybody in over two weeks."_

Then the man stupidly threw another punch, which Eliot blocked effortlessly and, with no trouble at all, knocked the man down for the FBI to take away.

"These guys don't learn do they?" Abby stated softly as her uncle grinned at a young woman in the boiler room. Eww, eww, eww, Abby thought to herself. Eww.

* * *

><p>"To the Big Store," Sophie cheered as the team chinked their glasses together. "So how was Ecuador?"<p>

"Better than the last time I was there," Eliot replied as he took a long sip of his beer.

"Not even going to ask," Hardison stated. "Where's Ace?"

"Ace?" the hitter enquired.

"It fits," Hardison replied.

"Out at the movies with some friends," Eliot said, then looked at his watch. "Should be back…" he was interrupted by Abby walking through the door with a familiar, to Eliot at least, looking teenage boy.

"Who's the boy?" Parker asked as Eliot growled, not so quietly, then stood up to 'greet' the boy.

"Nuh uh," Sophie said, trying to stop the man from starting a potentially disastrous argument.

"Sophie, she's my responsibility," he said before she could protest and then walked up to the pair of teenagers. "Who's this?"

Eliot was greeted with a hug from his niece as she introduced her friend. "Eliot this is Kyle Bonnano."

The clearly intimidated teenager held his hand out which Eliot shook, harshly.

"Nice to meet you," Kyle said, obviously trying to stop his voice from breaking.

"Same to you," Eliot greeted in return, without breaking eye contact, or releasing his hand.

"Umm Eliot," Abby said softly as she nervously rubbed her face.

"Yeah," her uncle said as he released the boy's hand, which he rubbed and flexed uncomfortably. "Patrick's son?"

"Yeah," he replied. "He seems to like you."

Eliot nodded.

"Well it's getting late," the hitter declared. "Shouldn't you be getting home?"

The teenager looked at his watch. "Uh, probably," he agreed then began to back away. "I'll see you at school AJ?"

"Yeah," the girl smiled.

"And it was nice to meet you Mr Spencer," he said, already mostly out the door.

As soon as the door had shut behind him, Abby walked behind the bar and poured herself a glass of cola.

"Did you have to?" she asked as she walked, huffing, to the table where the others were sitting.

"Abby you told me you were going to the movies with some friends. As in plural," Eliot replied as he followed her around the bar.

"I did; Kyle is one of them."

"You're not allowed to date," Eliot said, crossing his arms.

"First of all, Kyle isn't my boyfriend and we're not dating; we're just friends. Secondly, I think I'm old enough to date."

"But you like him?"

"Eliot!" Sophie scalded. "You do not ask your teenager whether they like a guy."

"I got it Sophie," Abby stated. "Eliot, you have to trust me. Kyle and I are just friends. If I want to date him or anyone else. I will talk to you about it. Deal?"

Eliot rubbed his temple.

"You're not allowed to date…"

"Deal?"

"Deal," he reluctantly agreed

* * *

><p>"So, basically, this guy had stock in all those companies, and we cost him a lot of money. He wants revenge. Uh, how much did he lose?" Nate said to Hardison in his apartment that evening.<p>

"Who said he lost money?" the hacker asked in response.

"He's making money off us?" Nate confirmed and Hardison nodded.

"You have to tell the others."

"When the time is right…"

"No, Nate. It's not just us anymore," he pleaded. "Eliot deserves to know; he deserves to be able to protect her."

"I'll tell them when the time is right," Nate insisted.

"At least go and figure out what this guy's up to," Hardison stated.

"That was the plan."

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you guys are enjoying, next chapter up by next week. =)<strong>

**Please review, if you feel so inclined.**


	3. The Flu

Eliot walked into Abby's room, tapping on the door.

"Abby it's quarter to; you gotta be at school in half an hour."

There was a quiet moan in response.

"Get up, I ain't tellin' you again."

She was silent so, slightly frustrated, Eliot walked further into her room and pulled the covers off; she was curled up in a ball, shivering and clearly ill.

"You okay darlin?" he asked, pulling the blankets back over her.

"I feel sick," she mumbled and rolled over to face him. He laid the back of his hand on her forehead; it was burning up.

"How are you sick darlin'?"

"My muscles hurt, my throat hurts, my chest hurts, I have stomach cramps."

"Yeah, you got the flu," he stated. "And stomach cramps as in.." he asked awkwardly.

"I don't wanna have the flu and yes, stomach cramps as in womanly stomach cramps."

"Look on the bright side, you don't have to go to school," he suggested.

"Woop de doo," she moaned sarcastically and pulled the covers back over her face.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

An hour later they entered Nate's apartment. Eliot walked into the kitchen, carrying a bag of groceries and Abby still dressed in her PJ's and carrying a back pack, headed straight for the couch and curled up in a ball. Parker, slightly confused, stared intently at the girl, walked up to her and poked her repeatedly on the shoulder.

"Eliot!" Abby yelled out.

"Parker!" the hitter yelled back. "She's sick, leave her alone."

"But..." Parker began to complain as she stood up.

"No buts Parker; leave her alone."

"She should be at home in bed," Sophie said, walking down from the loft.

"Her temperature was 102. I didn't want to leave her in case it got worse," he said unpacking the bags; homemade chicken soup, crackers, juice and other sick people food.

"So you brought her here to infect us all?" Hardison complained sitting at the dining room table on his computer. "No offence Abby," he added as an afterthought.

"Thanks Alec," she replied, somewhat sarcastically; Eliot ignored the comment.

"How are you feeling angel?" Sophie asked as she sat down next to Abby, stroking her hair.

"Horrible," she said before she began a coughing fit.

"Would you like a blanket?" She asked when the girl had finally finished coughing.

"Yes please," Abby replied and the grifter nodded at Parker to go fetch one.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

She woke up several hours later, dazed and feeling just as ill as before. She painfully sat up and looked about the room.  
>"Where is everyone?" she asked Parker, sitting at the bench behind her, going over what appeared to be plans for some sort of safe.<p>

"Out on the job. They left me in charge," the thief said, matter-of-factly and somewhat proudly.

"Cool," Abby replied somewhat unenthusiastically.

_ "Parker ask her if she needs anything,"_ Sophie hinted, not so subtly through the comms.

"Oh, yeah," the thief responded. "Do you want anything?" she asked, quite robotically.

"Soup?"

"Cool. Eliot left some in the fridge," she replied, then continued to study the blueprints in front of her.

_ "Go make it for her Parker,"_ Eliot said frustratedly.

"I was going to do that," she replied. "Totally."

_ "Get Abby to put her comms in as well."_

"Eliot wants you on comms," the thief yelled out as she walked into the kitchen. The teenager did as she was told and grabbed her comm from the coffee table.

"Hey," she mumbled.

_ "How you feeling?"_ her uncle asked.

"Still the same," she replied. "How's work?"

_ "Good. Sorry I couldn't be there though darlin'"_

"'T's not your fault. Not much you can do anyway. You're probably being a lot more productive out there."

_ "Suppose,"_ he replied.

"I got Parker anyway,"

_ "Parker doesn't know what she's doing."_

"But she tries," she said as she picked up the remote, attempting to turn the TV on. "Alec, how do you work this stupid thing?"

_ "It ain't that complicated,"_ the hacker replied exasperated, from his van.

"You keep..."

_ "Yeah, you keep changing it,"_ Sophie chimed in; Hardison sighed then walked her through the new programming for the remote.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What's this?" Parker asked, delivering Abby's soup and toast on a tray; Abby gave her a questioning look.

"This is Friends," she said, utterly bewildered that the thief didn't know what it was. Parker still looked confused. "It's a TV show."

"What's it about?"

"Friends. In New York. It's a sitcom."

"A what con?"

"A comedy," she said, then began another coughing fit.

"Don't die there kiddo," Parker said, slapping Abby hard on the back, trying to be helpful.

"I'll try," she said, shuffling up along the couch just far enough so Parker couldn't slap her on the back again.

"Your phone kept buzzing while you were asleep by the way," Parker added, staring intently at the television, while she passed the device to Abby.

Abby looked at it and smiled before texting her friend back.

"Is that your boyfriend?"

"Kyle's not my boyfriend," Abby replied as she began another coughing fit.

"Yeah he is," she insisted.

"Why?"

"Because you like him, he likes you and you do things together."

"Parker we don't do _things _together," Abby said quickly as she coughed. "And we don't like each other."

"Sophie said you did," she replied. "And if of course you do things; you went to the movies and lunch and stuff."

"Well by that definition, you and Alec should be a couple," Abby retorted; Parker was quiet on the subject after that and continued watching the show as Abby laid on the couch, drifting in and out of sleep, awoken only by her sporadic coughing fits, the occasional message from Kyle. and Parker's enthusiastic laughs at all of the wrong cues.

"When's Eliot getting back?" she asked as she coughed.

_ "'round an hour darlin'"_ he replied._ "We're just about to wrap things up. Everything okay?"_

"Mhmm," she muttered, coughing again. Then, before she even realised it, she was running towards the bathroom, the excessive coughing combined with the agonising stomach cramps causing her to throw up into the toilet bowl.

Parker ran in after her.

"She's throwing up. What do I do?" she asked.

_ "Hold her hair back,"_ Sophie replied. _"And then get her a face washer and a towel for her to clean up with."_

_ "I'm coming back,"_ Eliot stated.

"No," Abby replied before she threw up again.

_ "What?"_ he asked confused.

"You have to finish helping those people."

On the other side of the comms Eliot paused. _"You're sure?"_

"Mhmm," she said, sitting down on the bathroom floor, exhausted.

_ "Okay well, I'll be home in an hour,"_ he replied. _"Parker make sure she has some gatorade or something with electrolytes and keep an eye on her."_

"Roger that Sparky," Parker replied, saluting her hand to no one.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"You know she's sixteen right?" Hardison said to the hitter.

"And?"

"She's sixteen; you don't have to be there for her every second while she's sick."

"You're kidding me right?" Eliot stated.

"Kidding?"

"Last time you were sick you stayed in bed for like three days!"

"Your point being?"

"You weren't sick!" the hitter yelled frustratedly. " You had allergies!"

"Yeah, well, uh," the hacker blabbered. "Dammit Eliot!"

XXXXXXXXXXX

The team piled into Nate's apartment just as Abby was pressing play on a movie; her face looked drained, pale and exhausted.

"How you doing sweetie?" Sophie asked with a concerned look on her face.

"She stopped throwing up!" Parker stated as she stood up from the couch and went to fetch a drink from the fridge.

"Ain't nothing to throw up," Abby said.

"How's your temperature?" Eliot asked, sitting down on the other end of the couch beside Abby.

"100 last time I checked. Still coughing a lot and feel like sh... and feel horrible though," the teenager stated as she readjusted her position on the couch, allowing for more room.

"What are we watching?" Hardison asked as he placed a bag of popcorn into the microwave.

"The Court Jester," she stated.

"Ah, Danny Kaye, Angela Lansbury; good flick," Nate commented.

"I thought so."

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading guys and don't forget to drop a review... you know you want to =P<strong>

**Side note, the court jester is one of my favourite movies ever.**


	4. The Time Abby and Hardison Went to Lunch

"I'm so bored!" Abby complained as she flopped down on the couch in Nate's apartment.

"Whacha mean bored?" the hacker asked "Don't you have homework or something?"

"It's the weekend," she stated in response.

"Well don't you, I dunno, have any friends you can hang out with?"

"They're all hung over from this party last night."

"All of them? You're sixteen. I ain't never got hungover when I was sixteen."

"Not all of them," she said. "But the ones that didn't are too busy this weekend anyway."

"And you didn't go to the party?" Hardison asked; he was already starting to get that protective big brother instinct.

"Nah. Call me old fashioned, but the idea of people getting smashed just doesn't appeal to me," she replied sarcastically.

"Good," he replied as he continued to type on his computer.

"I'm still bored Alec," she complained again and he set down his keyboard.

"You know there is this one thing I've been meaning to do for ages but I ain't never got round to it. You interested?"

"Depends?" she asked cautiously.

"Nothing illegal, just some good natured fun," he replied picking up his car keys. Abby smiled.

* * *

><p>She wasn't sure where they were driving to but she wasn't concerned; at least, not too concerned. Finally, ten minutes into their trip he pulled over in a strip of shops. He gestured Abby out of the car and then walked over to an ATM where he withdrew three thousand dollars' worth of cash.<p>

"Alec, I'm just gonna remind you that you said this wasn't going to be illegal."

"It's not, just trust me," he replied.

"Famous last words," she muttered under her breath as she followed the hacker into a run down, empty diner. They sat down and were immediately attended to by a young woman who Abby would describe as a punk-rocker crossed with a hippy; her hair was dreadlocked and brown in colour, except for a few select locks which had been died bright pink. She had a nose ring, eyebrow ring and various henna inspired tattoos covering her shoulders.

"Hi, can I get you your usual?" she asked Alec.

"Yup," he replied. "Burger, fries and orange soda!"

"And for you miss?" she asked turning to Abby.

"Umm, I'll have the same except change the soda to an apple juice."

"Coming right up!" she said as she bounced away.

"Alec I'm confused."

"I said fun didn't I. You gonna tell me, the man who is treating you to lunch and changed your timetable around that you aren't enjoying my company?" he asked somewhat sarcastically.

"No, just the way you said 'good natured fun' made it sound mischievous. This isn't mischievous."

"Ha ha," he said. "Not yet it ain't."

"Please tell me we ain't gonna dine and ditch?"

"Nah girl," he replied. "We gonna do the opposite."

* * *

><p>Their meals arrived a few minutes later and they ate them as they talked and laughed; although the lunch so far wasn't turning out to be as mischievous as she originally thought, it certainly was entertaining.<p>

"So come on Alec, why are we really here?" she asked as she finished the last of her fries.

"That waitress, her name's Becky."

"I thought you had a thing for Parker?" She asked, still slightly confused.

"What, how, uh," he stammered. "Anyway, Becky, who I _don't_ like. She just lost her apartment, it got sold to a developer. Her dog just died and her mother just got diagnosed with breast cancer. They, thankfully, have insurance but she still has to work here full time to be able to keep up with the bills for her and her mother."

Abby smiled as she realised where the situation was headed. The hacker pulled out his wallet followed by the wad of cash which sat in there. Then, smiling, he placed it on the table alongside a note:

_ I know you've been going through a hard time,_

_ I hope this helps,_

_ You deserve this (after all, you service was excellent)_

_ -Anonymous._

He did one last check of the table then the pair stood up and walked nonchalantly out of the door. A few minutes later Becky and begun to clear the table and found the 3000 dollar tip. She ran out of the cafe, tears of joy falling from her eyes in an attempt to thank her tippers but, of course, Hardison and Abby were long gone.

* * *

><p>"That was fun," she stated, her heart still pounding slightly as they drove back to Nate's. "You do that often?"<p>

"Yeah, kinda," he replied.

"What's the deal?"

"Sometimes," the hacker began. "Sometimes people don't need thieves or con artists. Sometimes they haven't been wronged and they've just had a crappy run in life. Sometimes they don't need leverage; sometimes they just need a little help."

"You're a good guy Alec," she stated.

"Thanks kid," he replied. "Just don't tell your uncle. 'Cause it may not have been illegal but I did just run a red light."

* * *

><p><strong>Just a little bit of fun for you, I'm slowly working on a con and longer story, just FYI<strong>

**If any one has any requests I am more than happy to take them- Please give me requests!**

**Hope you all have a great day =)**

**Also, **


	5. Mastermind

"What are you doing?" Abby asked, staring intently over Nate's shoulder as he poured through client files.

"I am researching a client. Getting background information, them, the guy we're taking down," he replied, not looking up from the paper.

"So the usual?"

"Pretty much."

"Can I help?" she enquired and Nate hesitated.

"I don't know if Eliot would.."

"Eliot said nothing illegal," she interrupted. "This isn't technically illegal."

"Well, the information in here was acquired by questionable means but I suppose the act isn't _technically_ illegal," he concluded.

"Is that a yes?"

"I suppose," he said and she eagerly sat down next to him. He handed her a file. "Read through that and tell me what you think."

"What I think about what?"

"Just read it. You'll see what I mean," he reiterated and Abby opened up the file and began intently reading through the document.

"Done," she said around ten minutes later.

"Uh uh," Nate muttered. "I said read, not skim."

"I did read it. Go on, ask me something. Anything."

"Tell me about the company," the mastermind asked.

"That's broad but okay," she replied and then took a deep breath. "Hanlon Enterprises. Founded in eighty-six by Martin and Braiden Hanlon. It didn't say in there, but I'm gonna assume brothers. It's an acquisitions company; so they buy companies, pretty them up and then sell them to other, larger companies for a profit. Their largest sale was in oh-six when they sold a family owned business to the computer company Hardwire Industries for 20 million dollars."

"That's pretty good," Nate said, genuinely impressed by the amount of information she had retained. "But.."

"I'm not finished," she said proudly. "They're not real."

"How do you figure that?" Nate asked, knowing full well however that she was right.

"Their finances; too clean, too exact. They haven't changed business addresses since the eighties despite the fact that their finances say their business has expanded ten-fold. Now that's fishy."

"So if they're not a real company then what are they?" Nate tested.

"Money laundering?" she guessed.

"Ten points for Abigail!" he praised, still impressed. "How did you..."

"I have really, really good memory but I don't like to show it off too much," she stated. Abby had what was bordering on an eidetic memory and was smarter than most kids her age; something which she didn't like to display except, of course, in front of her 'family' who all had skills so bizarre that she almost felt as though she needed a special skill to fit in.

"And I get bored at school during class," she continued. "So I read the New York Times and economic stuff on my phone while the teacher's talking."

"You're smart kid but don't go flaking out on school," he said as Eliot walked through the door.

"Yes Uncle Nate," she said sarcastically then stood still for a moment, fiddling with her fingers.

"What's up?" the mastermind asked.

"Do you miss your son?" she enquired timidly.

"Every day," he replied, staring down at the paper in front of him.

"What was he like?"

"He was wonderful," Nate began as he smiled a bitter-sweet smile. "He loved baseball, he hated apples and had a crush on a girl called Lucy. What was your mother like?" he asked, tactfully changing the subject.

"She was the best mother any one could have asked for," she replied as they both turned their heads back to their work, a silent decision having been made that enough had been said.

* * *

><p><strong>So your requests have been noted and are being written; thank you for those.<strong>

**Would anyone be keen on collaborating with me; mostly for one of the cons I have planned but have hit an impenetrable writers' block?**

**Thanks again**

**A Lyrical Dreamer**


	6. Mastermind Cont

**Written especially for jinxcat21 who (probably justifiably) felt as though the Abby and Nate emotional bonding wasn't as deep or long as it could have been; so this is in lieu of that. Enjoy.**

* * *

><p>The day after Nate's investigation into the extent of Abby's talents, he walked up to her as she sat at the kitchen bench, surfing the net and listening to music with headphones in her ear.<p>

"Abby I'm heading down to the hi-fi store if you want to come," he asked; the teenager did not respond and remained engrossed in the screen. "Abby," he tried again. "Abby," he said louder.

Finally the teenager, pulling out one of her headphones, turned around and jumped at how close Nate was to her.

"Geeze," she exclaimed. "You scared me."

"I'm going down to the record store (they're having a sale) if you want to join me?" he asked again. "My treat?"

"Uh sure," Abby accepted, shutting down her computer and grabbing her bag, not entirely sure what Nate's ulterior motive was (and she was sure there was one).

They walked briskly down to the music store, a favourite haunt of Nate's; hidden away in an alley it had the best collection of vinyl, cd and even 8-track in the city but, due to its location, wasn't overrun with questionable youngsters.

As they walked inside Abby's eye's widened in awe. "Look at all of the music. All of the DVD's. It would take you hours to go through it all."

"Well, Ishmael at the front desk there," Nate said, gesturing to an Israeli man stacking CD's. "Knows every single artist, album, series, movie and disc in here and where it is in the store."

"That's impressive," Abby agreed as she walked over to the jazz section.

"So you're a jazz fan?" the mastermind enquired.

"I guess; I like everything really," she replied, flicking through the CD's, stacking the one's which took her interest. "Just how much are you treating me to exactly?"

Nate pondered for a moment. "60 bucks," he finally decided.

"That'll work," she nodded and she began to browse through the music, films and TV shows. "Nate?" she asked after several minutes of perusing. "Why did you really bring me down here."

Nate sighed. "Not a lot gets passed you does it?"

"Except on the computer with my headphones in," she replied.

"Yeah," Nate agreed. "Because I felt like yesterday you wanted to say more."

"Yesterday?"

"When you asked me about Sam," he clarified and the teenager hung her head.

"I just I don't get to talk about my ma much because I know it makes Eliot feel angry at himself, and he already has enough of that. But then you sorta gave me vibes that you didn't want to talk about your son either so, I dunno, it doesn't matter," she said before turning her head back to the discs.

"You don't feel like you can talk to Eliot about it?" Nate clarified.

"He feels _really _responsible for her death and I don't like making him feel that way. He would if I wanted to, but that's not fair on him."

"What did you want to talk about?" Nate asked, leaning back on a nearby table while the teenager continued to flick through CD's, although she did not pay much attention to them.

"_She _was really smart too you know," Abby began. "She put herself through Law School and college while I was still a baby. She'd read stories and have tea parties with me but I don't remember her; I don't have any vivid memories."

"You need to talk to Eliot," Nate pressed.

"But…"

"It may make him feel bad to think about your mother but I'm pretty sure it'd make him feel worse if he found out you couldn't remember her and wanted to know more about her," he explained as best as he could. "Anything in particular that brought this on?"

She shook her head. "Just me missing her."

"It's okay to miss her you know; like I said yesterday, I still miss Sam every day," he opened up, even though it pained him to do so.

"Did you love your wife?" Abby asked and the question took Nate by surprise.

"Of course I did," he replied.

"Then why did you divorce?" she questioned further.

"Because we both loved Sam so much that it hurt to be with each other; we weren't happy," he explained.

"Are you happy now?"

Nate thought about his question for a moment. Was he happy? Did he have what he wanted in life.

"For the most part," he decided. "Have you picked what you want to get?" he asked, once again diplomatically changing the subject.

"Yeah," Abby replied as she held up some DVD's and CD's. "We're good."

"Good 'cause I got a client meeting," he replied.

"What about?"

"Something to do with a funeral home."

* * *

><p><strong>So I hope you enjoyed. <strong>

**Next chapter; the aftermath of the Grave Danger Job and possibly the chat with Abby and Eliot about her mother, not sure yet, we'll see where my muse takes me. **


	7. The Grave Danger Job

**So, this isn't really Abby focused at all and I considered taking her out and publishing this as a one shot. But I decided against it, just because.**

* * *

><p>Hardison stared at the table blankly, his now unsavourably warm orange soda sitting untouched to his left. Parker sat just as silently opposite him, completely unsure of what to say to the man; she didn't, after-all, really understand fear. She shut it out, shut all emotions out to keep from being hurt and from getting caught and normally, that was a good technique for her. Until she was required to empathise and make her hacker feel better.<p>

"I'll be right back," Parker said as she stood up and walked upstairs to seek advice from Sophie. "I..I, uh, I don't know what to do," the thief stammered when she was face to face with the grifter.

"About Hardison?" Sophie clarified.

"Yes! He's been so angry and jumpy and not Hardison since the whole coffin thing and I don't know what to do? I want to help him but I don't know what to do," Parker spat out as Sophie put her hand on the thief's shoulder.

_That evening, the evening after Hardison had nearly died by being buried alive; there was an eerie silence as they returned back to Nate's place. Abby, having heard everything over the comms, ran up to him immediately and gave him a loving hug while the hacker stood, eyes glazed over, before he sat down on the couch and turned on the TV._

_Nobody had liked the job, being that it had forced them to face issues they'd rather not face again; the death of someone they cared about, which all of them, had gone through before and had no intention, any time soon of going through again._

_It had forced them to face their fears; to think about what scared them the most, which no one, not even the world's best criminals, liked to do._

_But, they had recovered; except their hacker. Hardison, while taken up with the task of finding and taking down the Wicket's and the task of making sure Javier and his drugs were taken into custody, had been fine. The task had served as a distraction to keep him from thinking about how he truly felt about the situation. At the conclusion of the job though, the fear had begun to take the better of him and he was no longer truly himself; just a silent, moody, withdrawn, jumpy version of Alec Hardison._

"He's scared. What do you do want when you're scared?"

"What he wants," Hardison declared as he wandered into Nate's apartment. "Is for.. for this to never have happened."

"How are you feeling?" Sophie asked sympathetically.

"Don't, don't do that Sophie. Try to empathise with me? You don't know what it was like down there," the hacker exclaimed, uncharacteristically angry. "To think you're gonna die alone? I was damn scared out of my mind."

"What's going on?" Eliot asked suspiciously as he and Abby entered the room; Eliot carrying bags of groceries, Abby carrying her school satchel.

"Hardison was just…."Sophie began.

"...letting out his feelings," Nate interrupted.

"I don't need you all to coddle me like a baby; I can deal with this just fine," Hardison said as he walked to the fridge, angrily removing a bottle of orange soda from the door.

"You don't," Eliot said softly. "You don't have to be fine," he said, this time louder.

"And it's okay to let it out," Sophie added.

"What?" Hardison enquired.

"If you let out what is within you what is within you will save you, if…" Abby began softly.

"...if you do not let out what is within you then what is within you will destroy you," Nate joined in. "Gospel of Thomas," he supplied.

"Right," Abby agreed.

"It means it's good not to keep things bottled up," Nate explained, ignoring the fact that he chose to dismiss this advice every day. But that was him, not Hardison; the two were completely different people.

"Not to mention all of the psychological evidence that suggests that getting this out is very therapeutic," Sophie added.

"What do you want?" Hardison asked angrily as he leaned forward and looked down at the kitchen bench, his hands stretched out wide.

"Tell them how you feel," Parker clarified, though she was mostly lost in a conversation containing psycho-babble she knew nothing about.

"I didn't used to be scared of a lot of things that didn't involve losing my family, but now…" the hacker paused as he coughed uncomfortably. "Now I'm just scared."

"We all get scare…."

"You don't get it!" he yelled. "I'm scared. Scared of being left alone, scared of enclosed spaces; I can't even take the elevator up to this apartment."

"Everyone had fears Hardison," Sophie said.

"Not crippling fears! Not fears that make you walk twenty floors up to your apartment; not fears that stop you from doing something normal."

"Of course they do Hardison," Sophie stated again.

"I'm scared of people," Parker suggested. "That definitely stops me from doing normal people things."

"But you're…" Hardison began then halted as he searched for the most sensitive word. "Special. You're special Parker."

"I'm sure Sophie's scared of things too," the thief exclaimed. The grifter opened her mouth and then closed it again, not extremely keen to talk about her fears; just like the rest of the team and just like Alec.

"Flying," Sophie finally declared.

"What?" Hardison asked.

"Flying," she said again. "After that Genogrow business on the plane I get really nervous when I fly."

"And you all know how I feel about hospitals," Nate added as he took Sophie's hand lovingly. "I can't deal with them."

"I'm scared of the dark. I have to sleep with fairy lights on," Abby exclaimed.

All head's turned to Eliot, who took a deep breath.

"Abby," he stated. "I'm scared something is going to happen to Abby."

"See; we're all scared of something," Sophie reassured. "The key is, to not let it get the better of you."

"How?"

"Fight it," Eliot informed him. "You fight it."

"I…I don't," the hacker stammered as Eliot picked up Hardison's coat and gestured him outside.

"We're going out," the hitter declared, opening the door and giving a brief nod to Nate as he followed the hacker into the hall.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"Where are we going?" Hardison asked walking purposely behind the hitter who was walking at un uncomfortably fast pace.

"Doesn't matter Hardison," Eliot replied, stopping and turning to face the hacker in the middle of the street. "It doesn't matter."

"Then why are we out here?" he asked, shrugging his shoulders before crossing his arms.

"To talk," Eliot replied; the hacker shrugged again, gesturing the hitter to start his so called talk. "You know what I said inside about fighting the fear?"

"Yeah but I don't…"

"Know how?" Eliot finished for him. "Don't think you have the strength to get over it? Whenever you think that, whenever you feel like the fear is too much I want you to remember something. I want you to remember Parker."

"What, why?"

"Because you love her and because she got you through that hell hole. She got you through that fear; why?"

"Because… because she's Parker," he replied simply.

"Then that's how you fight it," Eliot explained. "If Parker got you through the worst of it she can get you through the rest of it. You fight the fear for her and because of her."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

That evening Hardison paced around nervously in the back of the bar before finally working up the courage to go and talk to Parker in the bar.

"I-I never would have made it through that without you," he began softly, standing close to her. "You know that right Parker?"

The thief shrugged as soft tears started falling from her eyes. "Oh, that's not true," she replied modeslty. "Anyone can learn to hold their breath," she continued before Hardison lent in and gave the thief a loving kiss on the cheek; an action which surprised them both.

"Thanks for not hanging up the phone."

"Yeah," the thief replied simply as Hardison began to walk away. She sat for a moment, smiling through the tears of half joy and half fear. "Hardison," she yelled as she stood up and ran towards her hacker. "Please don't do that again," she begged as she hugged him, her arms draped around his neck.

"Ain't gonna happen mamma," he replied as he hugged her back, his arms around her back. "As long as you get me through this."

"Sure," Parker, with a quizzical look on her face (knowing Hardison couldn't see) replied. "I'll get you through this," she said quietly and, even though she wasn't sure what _it _was she didn't care; she would be there for him, just like he had always been there for her.

* * *

><p><strong>Still looking for someone to assist with my writers block FYI- just need someone to help me with the con I'm working on. <strong>

**Thanks for the reviews and PM's you've been sending me- they've been amazing!**


	8. Grifter

**Part one of an undetermined number of a request for wolfprowl. Hope you like it and thanks for your continued support. =)**

* * *

><p>"Sophie guess what?" Abby quizzed eagerly, bounding into the bar. The grifter, Parker and Hardison were sitting at a table, chatting about their upcoming con in the Caribbean and trying to explain that the emerald wasn't a literal emerald.<p>

"I don't know?" Sophie asked in response.

"Oh, oh, let me guess," Parker said eagerly, raising her hand like a school girl. "You stole a diamond? You crashed your car? You met George Clooney? You and…."

"I got a part in the school play!" Abby interrupted.

"Oooh, exciting!" Sophie exclaimed. "What play?"

"Seven Brides for Seven Brothers; I'm playing Doris," the teenager replied as she sat down next to Sophie. "I was hoping you could help me out with my acting and stuff?"

Hardison and Parker exchanged worried glances; apparently Abby wasn't aware at how bad of an actor Sophie was.

"I'd love to!" the grifter exclaimed before the others had a chance to intervene.

"This isn't going to be good is it?" Parker whispered to Hardison, who, with his lips tight shut shook his head.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You have to feel it!" Sophie exclaimed as she flourished her arms about. "Why does Doris not want to marry Benjamin? What deep innermost secret is stopping her from loving him?"

"Well, I would think that it has something to do with the fact that he kidnapped her," Abby stated, as small amount sarcasm in her voice. She walked up to the kitchen where Eliot was cleaning out the fridge.

"Where are you going?" the grifter asked.

"Just getting a drink Sophie," she yelled back and then, as she pulled a glass out of one of the cupboards, turned to her uncle. "I didn't know she was this bad. I don't get it," she said in a hushed tone. "She's a great grifter but this is, this is just painful. Why didn't you warn me?"

"Chop chop," Sophie yelled from down beside the couches.

"Help me please," she pleaded as she finished off the last of her water.

"Sorry darl, you're on your own," Eliot replied, grinning slightly. The teenager walked over to the grifter.

"Look, Sophie, not that this isn't, uh, interesting and uh, well, interesting," she began. "It's a high school play; not Broadway," she said, finally confessing her frustrations, as she lent down on the arm of the couch. When she had asked Sophie for help she hadn't expected such a drawn out tiresome event.

"Not yet!" the grifter said hopefully, pulling the teenager off of the couch and into the space they had created to rehearse. Abby moaned and the grifter raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Sophie I just wanted you to help me memorise my lines and give me some acting tips," the teenager finally confessed.

"That's what I was doing?"

"No, no," Abby stated, shaking her head. "We just spent two hours on the feelings and backstory of my character."

"You don't like my methods?" Sophie asked disappointingly.

"They're just a bit advanced for me Soph," she replied, trying to soften the blow.

"What did you want to work on then?"

"I was hoping you could run through my lines with me and help me with my accent," she suggested alternatively. This caused Sophie to perk up.

"Accents I can help you with," the grifter grinned. "So, Doris from the Southern states, this means you're already halfway there with the accent," Sophie began and the lesson on how to perfect her southern drawl continued, productively while Eliot took the rare lapse in job to catch up on some reading, for half an hour before Nate came traipsing down the stairs and Hardison and Parker walked through the front door, all carrying their luggage.

"You ready to go?" Nate asked the grifter, who confusedly looked down at her watch.

"Is it that time already?" Sophie queried; it was much later than she had thought it would be.

"Yup, we gotta plane to catch," Parker stated. "And an emerald to steal," she added dreamily; the team did not correct her.

"Right," Sophie said, moderately flushed as she gathered her things. Abby did the same then, after Nate's apartment was locked and the alarms set, walked down to the car with the team, although she was not going with them. He hated leaving her alone, as did she, but there was little they could do. Having her tag along could prove more dangerous than leaving her at home, not to mention she had school. The option had also been thrown around about having her stay with Bonnano, but after Eliot had discovered her and his son had crushes on each other, that option was thrown promptly out the nearest window. Instead they had settled on her staying in their apartment alone (as the trip was only for three days) and having Hardison set up extra cameras and security surrounding their place. She had agreed to go straight to and from school, wear her comms and check in with the detective for the duration of the teams' absence. It wasn't a perfect, but, for now, it worked.

"Please be safe," she pleaded as she hugged Eliot goodbye next to the trunk, after everyone's luggage was loaded.

"Always," he hugged back as he kissed her on her head.

"You'll be back in time for my play yeah?" the teenager confirmed, pulling out of the hug.

"Wouldn't miss it," he replied.

"Plane flights put us back a good four hours before you go on," Hardison added as he leant against the car door. "We'll be there."

"Good," Abby stated, brushing her windblown hair back behind her ear. "That's good. I'll see you in three days then."

"Sure thing darlin'," the hitter said, opening the passenger door. "Keep your comms on you okay? And don't do anything stupid."

"I won't," she replied while the rest of the team filed into the car.

"Don't take the same route home, have the house locked up by seven, call me if you're going anywhere, call Bonnano if anything feels off and watch your back," Eliot warned.

"What? No 'don't talk to strangers'," Abby joked.

"That too," Eliot agreed. "Love you."

"Love you too," she smiled as the team drove off to the airport.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for the delay; I had plans to upload this and more last night but I still haven't finished it, so, rather than make you wait, I decided to give you half of the chapter. It's not extremely eventful but, hey, it's better than nothing. <strong>

**Umm, I'm still always up for requests, for those of you who already have, its, slowly on its way. **

**My plan now is to update twice a week, especially while I have 2 stories to update. **

**Ta :)**


	9. The Cross My Heart Job

**Part 2/3 of wolfprowl's request. Please enjoy**

**Takes place during the Cross My Heart Job**

* * *

><p>"Are you grumpy because of the spear gun, shipwreck thing or are you grumpy because of something else?" Parker asked innocently as Eliot and she fiddled with their makeshift comms. The hitter pointed angrily at the clock; it read quarter past nine.<p>

"Play starts in fifteen minutes Parker," Eliot stated, without looking up from his current task. "We're not going to make it."

"Just call her and tell her why," the thief suggested.

"No, really? I didn't think of that," the hitter replied sarcastically.

"Well go on then," the thief replied, shooing him away and clearly not picking up on the sarcasm. "Go and call."

"I did, she's not picking up because phones have to be silent backstage," he explained, trying to stay as calm as possible.

"Oh," Parker replied sadly. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"There's two kids' life at stake here and, as much as I hate it, that takes precedence," he explained, this time more softly.

"Then why are you upset? If saving two kids' lives are more important that missing one kids' play, why worry?" she queried; apparently she still didn't quite understand the idea of family in its entirety and the commitment which came with it.

"Parker, when you have kids," he began, placing down his tools and hoping that the day never came when Parker had to raise a child. "You'll understand. They'll always be the most important thing; their achievements, like a school play, are just as important too. But what's important isn't always best for everyone or right, so you have to make sacrifices."

"Will she understand?" she asked meekly in response.

"She's gonna be pissed as hell," he replied; Parker gave him a quizzical look. "I've missed out on half her life; half of her school plays and recitals and while I understand, and so does she, neither of us like it and it's not fair on her to have to expect me _not _to be there." He explained and, out of the corner of his ear, heard Hardison speaking to Nate.

"Nobody's asking Eliot to fight a guy with a Nerf Sword," the hacker exclaimed.

"Damascus, 2002," he replied smugly, happy at the change of conversation, as he fondly remembered a fine summer evening, prince's palace and an unprecedented amount of blood for a fight with a foam weapon

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Abby fixed up the small smudge of makeup beneath her eye and adjusted, for the fiftieth time, her costume. She didn't understand how women wore corsets every day.

"Half an hour 'till curtain every one," one of the stage hands announced and there was a hushed moment of panic as people questioned whether they had forgotten their lines, where their props were, did their hair and makeup look fine. Abby's mind was only on the question of where her family was. "AJ," the stage hand yelled out. "There's someone here for you," he said excitedly and pointed towards the stage door.

Abby jumped up from her chair and ran to the door, opening it up eagerly and stepping outside into the night. "You made it!" she exclaimed before she saw who it was.

"Course I made it," Kyle exclaimed, slightly confused. "I told you I was coming; you ordered the tickets."

"Sorry, yeah. I thought you were Eliot," she confessed then looked down at the bouquet of flowers he was holding in his arms. "You bought me flowers?"

"Yeah, well, every leading lady should have flowers," he replied as he handed her the dozen red tulips. Abby took them in awe.

"They're beautiful Kyle," she thanked as she sniffed them; they were fragrant and calming. Then, as the teenage boy in front of her swayed awkwardly, she leant forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Is your dad nearby?" she asked before he could say anything.

"No, uh, he just left. Why?" the boy enquired, though he was clearly distracted.

"Just need to talk to him is all," she replied. "Anyway, I should get back inside." She smiled and waved to her friend as he walked around to the entrance before she went back inside, pulling her phone out of her bra and dialling the detective's number.

"_Abigail,_" the man greeted. "_Shouldn't you be getting ready?_"

"Umm, I'm pretty much ready now," she replied.

"_What can I do for you?_"

"Have you heard from Eliot or the others?" she questioned and she could almost sense the detective leaning forward attentively in his chair.

"_No,_" he replied simply.

"'Cause they were meant to get back this afternoon from a job in.."

"…_ unless it's way outta my jurisdiction don't want to know,_" he interrupted.

"The Caribbean," she continued knowing that was about four states and an ocean out of his authority. "But I can't get a hold of them on comms or cells and they weren't on the flight back…"

"_I'll look into it,_" he said quickly. "_But I wouldn't worry; they're good at what they do_."

"Yeah okay," she replied, though unconvinced.

"_Break a leg okay_?" he encouraged.

"Sure thing," she stated as she hung up the phone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hardison," Parker said softly as she walked up to the hacker, sitting at the desktop.

"Yeah girl?" he replied.

"Can you stall Abby's play? Delay it 'till tomorrow night? When we're back?" she pleaded.

The hacker stared at her for a moment. "Uh, yeah, girl; sure. I didn't think you were that into theatre?"

"I'm not but Eliot should be there," she replied simply. Hardison smiled at her; he loved this side of Parker, even if it showed itself less often than a yeti in Hawaii.

"I'll see what I can do but I might need…." he began as Sophie rolled into the restaurant on her newly acquired wheelchair. "Sophie's help," he finished.

"What now?" Sophie asked, standing up out of the chair and shaking out her hair.

"Parker here wants to delay Abby's play so…."

"So he can do his job for Abby," Parker finished.

"That's really nice Parker," Sophie smiled before she walked over to beside the others at the computer. "Pass me the phone please?" She requested and Hardison handed over their client's cell. "And the number for the Drama co-ordinator," she stated. The hacker took a few moments longer than usual to find the number online (the computer was prehistoric) but he found it nevertheless. Sophie keyed the number and pressed call. Hardison looked at his watch.

"I should go before Eliot chews my head off about being late," the hacker exclaimed, standing up and excusing himself from the restaurant.

"Hi," Sophie said into the device in one of her best New York accents. "My name is Jenna O'Donnell, I'm calling on behalf of Mr. Clooney," she began then gave a panicked look to the thief. She tapped on her watch and mouthed 'you have to go get Eliot.' She made a steering motion with her hands. 'Drive the buggy,' she mouthed.

Parker checked the clock on the wall; she was late. Her eyes widened in panic and she ran off out the door. Sophie, meanwhile, turned her attention back to the call.

"_I'm sorry, I don't…" _a male voice came over the phone.

"Is this Mr Marigold, head of the drama department of Quincy High School?" Sophie continued, interrupting the man.

"_Uh yes. Sorry who is this?"_ he asked confusedly.

"I represent Mr Clooney," Sophie repeated quickly. "Now, he's heard about the rendition you're doing of Seven Brides for Seven Brothers and was very much keen on attending."

"_Mr Clooney? Like the actor?" _he queried, growing more and more flustered.

"You've heard of him?" Sophie clarified.

"_Yes, yes, of course. He's coming to the show?"_

"Well, that depends on you. You see, Mr Clooney has unfortunately been delayed and won't be arriving in Boston until tomorrow."

"_Tonight is our closing night," _Marigold replied in a panicky manner.

"It doesn't have to be," Sophie suggested. "Mr Clooney was hoping you'd be able to delay tonight's show until he's available tomorrow evening."

"_Well, I don't know," _the man replied; Sophie could tell he was right on the edge of saying yes.

"What's that Mr Clooney?" Sophie yelled out as though she was talking to someone on her side of the phone. "Of course I'll tell him," she stated, then turned back to talk to the drama teacher. "He also said he'd be most interested in meeting the director…"

"_Consider the show delayed," _the man said quickly. _"And I'll set the best seat aside for Mr Clooney."_

"Five seats," Sophie instructed, smiling smugly; she loved it when she got her way. "Mr Clooney thanks you for your co-operation."

* * *

><p><strong>Next chapter up thurfri ish =)**

**Thanks for reading and reviews are ALWAYS welcome, hint hint =P**

**ta**


	10. The Performance

"I can't, Clooney, amazing, my show, star," Abby heard the head of drama mumble, five minutes for curtains, as he rushed about backstage. It was the Clooney that caught her attention; she was used to her teachers' eccentricities and obsessiveness, which lapped Sophie's by miles, for drama, but Clooney? That had to be the Leverage crew.

"Mr Marigold," Abby yelled out as loud as she dared for backstage, hitching up her long dress as she tried to chase after him.

"Can't talk have to," he began but trailed off as he walked out onto the stage and gestured one of the stage hands to draw the curtains; the audience cheered in belief the play was starting

Abby stood in the wings, arms crossed, leaning over her left foot with her brow furrowed in confusion and intrigue.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Marigold began and the crowd began to hush itself. "I'd like to thankyou all for coming, first of all, but I must inform you that, due to unforeseen circumstances, we must delay our closing night 'till tomorrow evening."

In the audience and backstage, there was a Mexican wave of whispers as the news was passed from person to person, all equally as confused as the last. All except Abby, who smiled at the notion, as she now knew that not only were her family alive and well, but would make it to see her show.

The man finished his speech, though failed to mention Mr Clooney to the audience and then hurried back stage, pushing his way past Abby as he did. Abby took the opportunity to lift, just as Parker had secretly been teaching her, his phone out of his pocket; it wasn't exactly a smooth lift, but Marigold was so hyped up he didn't even notice.

She turned the phone on, went into the received calls section and pressed redial on his last received call.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You gave him your name," Sophie said to Nate in horror.

"I want him to know my name," Nate replied in a solemn and malicious tone. Then, to both of their surprise, Linda's phone rang. Sophie gave him a concerned look as Nate picked up the phone quickly and answered it.

"Talk quick," Nate said threateningly.

"_Ha! I knew it!" _a voice exclaimed over the line.

"What? Abby? How?" Nate questioned, slightly confused as to how the girl got the number.

"_George Clooney my ass!"_

"Is that Abby?" Sophie asked.

"Yeah, she's saying something to do with George Clooney," Nate replied and Sophie gave a satisfied grin.

"_So you guys are okay?" _Abby asked and, in Nate's moment of confusion, Sophie stole the phone from him.

"Abby!" Sophie exclaimed. "Yes, we're fine we just lost all of our phones and comms then we got stuck doing a job on our layover."

"_Was that you that delayed the play?"_

"Yes, well, it's good to put my acting skills to good use," Sophie said proudly.

"_Thanks Sophie. So you're going to be able to make it now?" _the teenager asked hopefully.

"Thank Parker, it was her idea," Sophie informed the girl. "And we'll definitely be there."

"_Awesome. And can you do me a favour?"_

"Sure, what do you need?"

"_Don't tell Eliot,"_ the teenager requested. "_I want it to be a surprise."_

"_Nate, he's getting on the plane," _Eliot exclaimed over their makeshift intercoms._ "We're on him right now, but he's getting on with the heart."_

"_What was that about a heart?" _Abby questioned, not entirely sure if she wanted to know the answer.

"We'll explain later," Sophie said quickly. "And your secret's safe."

"Well, get him off the plane now," Nate instructed the hitter.

"_I should let you go," _Abby replied.

"Probably," Sophie agreed and, after saying goodbye, hung up the phone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After several conversations with her classmates, feigning disappointment, confusion and anger at her teacher, and changing into a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, Abby wandered outside.

She was met by Kyle, leaning against his father's car.

"Top show Abby, just brilliant," he praised sarcastically.

"Why thankyou," she replied, playing along, as Detective Bonnano got out of the car. "Hi," she smiled at the man, who nodded a hello.

"Look," he began uncomfortably. "I couldn't find anything about what happened. The only thing I could find was a shipwreck in the Caribbean. Maybe you should stay…."

"Oh no, don't worry!" she exclaimed. "The delay for our final performance was because of them."

"How do you know that?" he asked cautiously. One reason behind the question being his duty as a police officer, the other as a concerned parent, the third being if anything happened to the girl he wasn't entirely certain that Eliot wouldn't have his head.

"George Clooney; the delay was because George Clooney wants to come see the play," she stated simply.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive! Talked to Sophie myself."

"Well that's good to hear," Bonnano stated.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The plane flight back from Cincinnati had been filled with mixed emotions. Sophie, Nate, Parker and Hardison were all thrilled, though it showed differently in each of them, at what they had accomplished the night before. Parker, Hardison and Sophie were also particular excited about the small prize awaiting their unsuspecting hitter once they landed in Boston. Eliot's mood, on the other hand, had been far from elation, his leg tapping ever so slightly out of nervousness as he contemplated the disappointment and anger of his niece.

They landed and got through security without any issue, picked up their luggage and waited for Hardison to pull the car around from the parking bay.

"Where are we going?" Eliot growled, breaking the silence that had arisen as they drove home from the airport, when he noticed Hardison turning off the highway one exit too soon.

The hacker gave a knowing grin as he looked back at Eliot in his rear-view mirror. "You'll see," he said as he nodded.

"Dammit Hardison!" the hitter swore. "If you're trynna take me to one o' those nerd fests again-"

"Hey man, how many times I gotta tell you; _geek _fest," he corrected. "And just be cool man; you'll like this surprise."

"Yeah well, I don't like surprises," Eliot complained.

"Everyone likes surprises silly!" Parker exclaimed as they turned another corner.

"Where are we going Hardison?" the hitter asked once more. "I gotta get home and console a hormonal teenager about missing her play."

A small grin slipped from Sophie's lips as they pulled up to the school. A confused and bewildered look sat on Eliot's face.

"What?" Eliot asked as Hardison undid his seatbelt and twisted around in his chair to face the hitter.

"Sophie pulled some of her magic and got the play delayed so you could go see it," Hardison explained.

"We," Sophie and Parker corrected simultaneously.

"I got all of us tickets and that means you too Nate," Sophie exclaimed knowing Nate, though interested, would be far from enthusiastic and would much rather be at home building model ships.

"Does Abby-"

"She knows and is very excited," Sophie interrupted as she opened the door and stepped outside. "Pip-pip; the play starts in two minutes," she continued, gesturing the rest of the team out of the vehicle.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Oh Milly, we've been kidnapped!" Abby exclaimed in her best southern drawl and, in the lull between her lines gave a quick glance out into the audience. Although the stage lights prevented her from seeing lots, she could just make out the silhouettes of her favourite team of criminals.

"Good job on the accent Sophie," Nate whispered to Sophie.

"Shhhhhh!" Parker hushed; she was sitting cross-legged on the seat next to Sophie, leaning forward and watching the performance with intense concentration. Nate grinned at this while he silently contemplated how their team had grown, then returned his attention back to the play.

Dance steps were fumbled through, lines (thankfully) weren't forgotten, songs were (for the most part) sung on key and even Nate had to admit that, for a high school production, it was a pretty good play.

An hour later though, it was complete and as Abby came on stage to take her bow, the Leverage crew cheered the loudest; a notion which caused Abby to grin like she'd just won the lottery.

Then the director, Marigold, came out on stage, clearly flustered. "I'd like to thank the school, the wonderful cast, the lighting and sound crew, our stagehand," Marigold thanked as he began to sweat under the stage lights. "And, of course, Mr Clooney for gracing us with his presence," he stated, pointing to where the Leverage crew was seated.

"George Clooney?" Eliot asked.

"It worked didn't it!" Sophie exclaimed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Bravah!" Sophie shouted, applauding as Abby, still dressed in her costume and carrying a backpack, walked outside to meet the team. The teenager quickened her pace and, when she drew close enough, jumped excitedly into Eliot's arms.

"Well done darlin'," he exclaimed.

"Did you like it?" Abby asked as she let go of Eliot, brushing the hair off her face and hitched up her back pack.

"Course we did," Eliot replied.

"Yeah! Totally hilarious," Parker exclaimed. "But Dorcas the rest of those girls should have been carrying tasers."

"Thanks Parker," the teenager replied, knowing that, coming from Parker that statement was definitely a compliment.

"Yeah Ace," Hardison praised. "You totally rocked it."

"Very well done," Nate said simply.

Abby smiled in thanks as they began to walk back to their vehicles.

"So what's this I heard about a heart?" she queried and Parker opened her mouth to respond but closed it quickly in response to the yelling coming from the entrance to the auditorium.

"Mr Clooney? Mr Clooney!" they heard Marigold yell out in hope and in desperation.

"Ya know, someone should really tell him," Hardison exclaimed.

"Nah, he'll figure it out eventually," Parker replied.

"I'll have Clooney send him some cookies apologising," Hardison decided sympathetically.

"Nice job Sophie," Nate whispered to the grifter as he walked with his arm around her.

"It was all Parker's idea," she said back softly just as the teenager leant back from walking next to Eliot and mouthed to the thief 'thankyou'.

Parker grinned and gave Abby two thumbs up to the thief as they made their way back to the bar to celebrate all of their successes.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you wolfprowl for the request, I really had fun writing this. <strong>

**Any more requests are welcome and if there's a specific episode tie in you want done, let me know. **


	11. Parent Teacher Conferences

**Takes place just after the Lonely Hearts Job which, in my universe, takes place after the last chapter but before the Queen's Gambit Job. Mostly because when I wrote this I forgot to check the order of the episodes. **

**I hope you'll all forgive me? :)**

* * *

><p>In the bar the team sat at a table, celebrating their latest win against Meredith and her hoard of grifters.<p>

"I still can't believe you got me a plant," Parker exclaimed to Hardison. "That eats things."

"I can't believe I didn't get to go to the Hamptons," Abby complained.

"You had school," her uncle stated. "Speaking of which I should get going," he said as he sipped back the last of his beer.

"Promise me you won't embarrass me."

"How am I going to embarrass you? When have I ever embarrassed you?" he asked in response.

"Dropping me off at school in a Ferrari when I was 10, dating my 3rd grade teacher, breaking up with my 3rd grade teacher, making me wear elbow pads to ride my bike to Mrs Grey's..."

"You made her wear elbow pads?" Hardison asked as he made a face of disgust.

"She was five and really, really accident prone," Eliot defended.

"It was on the other side of the street," Abby stated.

"So you were one of those really overprotective parents?" Sophie asked, not unsurprised.

"_Is_," Abby corrected.

"I was not overprotective," Eliot protested. "The knee pads were your mother's idea anyway."

"Why is Eliot going to embarrass you?" Parker asked.

"I'm not..." Eliot began but then realised it was trivial.

"Parent teacher conference," Abby informed.

"I should be heading off and I want you to finish your coke and then get home okay? And don't take like an hour to finish it like you did last time."

"Okay," she said, kissing him on the cheek as he left.

"Why is he embarrassing you?" Parker questioned again, still confused.

"My lit teacher," Abby stated simply.

"I'm still confused."

"Is she young and attractive?" Sophie enquired and the teenager nodded.

"Apparently," Abby replied. "And Eliot is Eliot."

"Oh," Parker exclaimed. "And you think they're going to..." she made an odd, Parker like gesture with her hands, finishing her sentence.

"And then they're going to never speak again and things will forever be awkward between me and my teacher."

"They might not," Sophie suggested and both Nate and Hardison scoffed slightly, well aware of Eliot's reputation with women. Sophie raised an eyebrow in disapproval.

"I think Nate and Alec said it well," Abby stated, finishing off the last of her drink. "Anyway, I should go. I'll see you tomorrow."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

After Abby left the bar Sophie called up the hitter, driving in his car to Abby's school.

"_Yeah Soph,"_

"How do you feel about Abigail having sex?" She stated bluntly, through the phone, she could hear the screeching of breaks.

"_Why?" _he said in his angry voice.

"Because you need to set an example. You know Abby's interested in Bonnano's kid…."

_"Wait, you lost me,"_ he interjected.

"I know you're a man and you have... needs but Abby is well aware of your reputation with women and is that the sort of example you want to be setting for her? That women are objects to be used and discard..."

"_You know I don't think that!"_

"Does Abby?"

_"She's smarter than..."_

"Than what Eliot? Teenagers learn from the examples that are set from the people around them, _especially_ their role models. And don't forget that Abby's mother was the same age she is when she got pregnant."

Eliot wanted to be angry but he knew she was right, but he couldn't just let a comment like that slide.

_"And you and Nate huh? What sorta example is that setting?"_

This statement caught Sophie by surprise; she hadn't really thought about it from this perspective.

"You know Nate's not ready for a relationship Eliot, but you know as well as I do that we are in a relationship; just an unconventional one."

"_So," _he said, looking for some sort of definite answer.

"So," Sophie stated. "Be a role model. I'm not saying don't have sex just be wary of the example you're setting for your little girl."

_"Yeah, okay," _he said. "_And thanks Sophie and if you could..."_

"Give you my input into raising a teenage girl?" she offered and Eliot silently thanked her for not making him finish that sentence.

"_Thank you Sophie." _

_"_We've all grown to love that girl Eliot and we'll always be here to help."

XXXXXXXXXXX

Pulling up at the school Eliot still wasn't sure what exactly had brought on the rather unusual call from Sophie that was until he walked into the classroom and saw a beautiful, fair skinned woman with strawberry blonde (how he loved red hair) hair sitting at a desk; utterly stunning.

"Miss Brennan?" He asked.

"Call me Kara," she said with a southern accent; how he loved a southern woman.

"Eliot Spencer."

"Of course, you must be AJ's..." she trailed off, not too sure of the relationship.

"Uncle," he offered, tensing slightly at the use of Abigail's nickname.

"Right," she said smiling. "Well AJ is wonderful; bright, joyful and she's doing excellently in class, even despite her starting here mid semester."

"So she's doing well?"

"Excellently, she's picked up a few odd spellings from her time overseas, but it's nothing in the grand scheme of thing."

"Yeah, she picked up a few odd habits over there," he smiled. "You ever been?" he said, his flirtatious nature taking over.

"No, I'd love to go sometime though," she said, ever so slightly flirting back.

"Well I should go see her other teachers," Eliot said, Sophie's words ringing in his ear.

"Oh well it was nice to meet you Eliot," Kara said, extending her hand for him to shake, a slight look of disappointment on her face.

"You as well," he replied, returning the gesture.

XXXXXXXXX

Eliot enjoyed driving, even if it was just to the school and home, as it gave him time to think; let him get away from the outside world and just think and that evening was no different.

The call from Sophie had made him realise that he wasn't just raising a person but a girl; a woman. Sure had had practically raised his sister after his mother's death but that had turned out with Hayley being pregnant and the pair of them exiled from their own home; not exactly what he wanted for Abby. And more than that, he was a thief. How on earth did he expect to raise an honest, truthful person when he lied and stole for a living? How could he expect Abby to be any different than him?

The thoughts had been swirling about in the back of his mind ever since Abby had come back into his life but only now were they starting to articulate themselves.

These thought scared him, and not a lot scared Eliot.

So, Eliot did the only thing he could think of, as much as it pained him to do so.

* * *

><p><strong>What is it that Eliot will do? <strong>

**So, updating will probably slow due to (good) changes in real life. Slow, not stop, I have big plans for this story (provided you all keep on enjoying it and reviewing *hint hint* :P).**

**Until then, have an excellent day!**


	12. Man to Man, Heart to Heart

Nate was watching an old noire film when Eliot opened the door, carrying beer and pizza and, looking at his watch, Nate realised that this was urgent beer and pizza.

"Eliot," he greeted.

"Nate," the hitter replied. "Bought beer."

"Yeah, I can see that," Nate said Eliot sat down beside him, stealing the remote and flipping over to the sports channel.

A silence ensued for the next ten minutes or so as they slowly drank their beers and ate their pizza, feigning engulfment in the game. Nate was actually thinking about what on earth this was about while Eliot was silently brooding in the fact that something Sophie had said had gotten him so riled up.

"So," Nate finally said, to Eliot's relief.

"How the hell am I meant to do this?" Eliot asked, opening up despite his better judgement.

"What, you talking about Abby?"

"Yeah."

"The same as you did before."

"Yeah, but now she's a real person with opinions and hormones and skills and aspirations..."

"What exactly is worrying you Eliot?" Nate asked, cutting Eliot off. He didn't reply. "What you're worried she's going to get pregnant at 16 like her mother?" Again, there was no reply. "Or end up like you?" Eliot made a face suggesting Nate was right on the nose. The mastermind took a deep breath.

"Eliot you did what you had to do, I would have if it meant saving Sam. So maybe you've done some bad things but they're in the past. You are not a bad person Eliot, something which your niece knows. You, the team, we're in a good place. A place that'll allow you to do the right thing by her. And if that doesn't work out, you've got the rest of the team to back you up."

"Nate, I'm a hitter and a thief."

"You were a hitter and a thief before as well and look how she's turned out; she's smart, compassionate, and independent. And don't forget, you're stealing for the right reasons, a fact that she's aware of. Eliot just be honest with her."

"She's gonna wanna join in you know?"

"That's your decision."

"What do you think?"

"She seems capable enough, especially from what I heard about Miami. But it's your decision Eliot, no one else's."

Originally, Eliot was completely adverse to the idea of Abby working with them, but the more they got reacquainted, the more she realised she would be perfect for it; she was charismatic, intelligent, was a decent enough fighter and knew enough about justice to be an excellent grifter but most importantly she cared passionately about helping people.

He knew it was a perfect job for her, a thought which partially frightened him. But Nate was right, it was his decision, at least until she was 18, if she was involved in jobs or not.

"Eliot, you are a fantastic parent; just keep doing what you're doing and she'll turn out fine."

"Thanks Nate," Eliot replied and the two, in silence, finished the game, not speaking another word about Abigail; exactly how they wanted it.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Abby was lying on the couch, feet up over the back reading when Eliot returned home that evening.

"How'd I go?"

"Passed with flyin' colours, as usual," he replied. "Whatcha reading?"

"Oscar Wilde," she replied. "Anything else?"

"Beer with Nate."

"How was that?"

"Good, darlin' can we talk?" He asked sitting down next to her.

"Never a good way to start a conversation El," she replied, and sat up properly on the couch to face him, placing her book on the coffee table and crossing her legs. "Shoot."

He cleared his throat.

"How do you feel about my job honey?" he queried and she was slightly taken aback by the question; she was expecting something to do with her school teacher.

"Truthfully?"

"Always."

"I love it. I love the fact that you help people so selflessly. I love the fact it's given you, us, a family again. I love the fact that you're doing something good again."

"Again?" he questioned, wondering how much exactly she thought he did.

"I'm not stupid El, you were in the army and you did good things. Then you worked for Moreau, you obviously have done some... things which weren't as good. But that's in the past right? And you can't change that. And it's not exactly like I expect you to get a normal job either. I mean, use the gifts God gave you right?"

"That's right darlin'," he said as he kissed her on the forehead. "And would you ever want to work with the team?"

"Can I?"

"I'm not asking that, I'm asking if you'd ever _want _to," he reiterated.

"If I'm being honest, yes. But in saying that, I wouldn't want to make a career of it. Just sorta, help out in the family business."

"Because I don't want that life for you ya know? I don't want you in this life and I don't want you to follow in my footsteps."

"What? In your job?" she clarified.

"In a lotta things," he replied as he laughed awkwardly. "The conning, beating… dating."

"Gargh!" she exclaimed then picked up the pillow sitting beside, placed it on her knees and buried her face into it. "I don't wanna hear this," she mumbled.

"Abby I have to…"

"No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no," she exclaimed quickly. "When I date, you can give me the talk."

"Kyle…"

"Kyle and I aren't dating; he's not going to ask me out so, move on please!"

"We gotta talk about it eventually, ya know," he reminded her.

"When I date," she said again. "And think about it. You don't want me date, I don't want you to give me the talk so, this way, I'm less inclined to date," she explained and Eliot sighed.

"Fine," he said sternly; he couldn't disagree with her logic.

"Good. Is that it?"

"No. Look Abby all I'm trying to say is I'm not the best person to raise a kid and I'm not the best and setting examples. All I'm saying is just because I'm your uncle doesn't mean you should do what I do…"

"Eliot I'm not my mother, I'm not my father and I'm not you," she interrupted. "You need to trust me to make my own decision. You need to trust me to be me."

Eliot sighed; he had no idea how he had gotten so lucky.

"Just make good choices okay darlin'," he summarised, tousling her hair as she stood up from the couch and began to walk towards her room.

"I will," she replied as Eliot remained sitting on the couch.

"And darlin'," he began and she paused her movement, leaning on the door frame and back at her uncle. "What career to do want?"

She paused for a moment and thought. "I'd like to run a charity," she finally declared then scampered away into her room.

Eliot sighed once more; at least he had done something right.

* * *

><p><strong>So, not as drastic as you all thought... but still, opening up for our hitter is still a pretty drastic measure for him<strong>

**Hope you guys like this, I wasn't too sure about it 'cause it felt similar to stuff I'd already written.  
>Thanks for the follows and reviews =)<strong>


	13. The School Job Part 1

Abby stared aimlessly at the fridge in Nate's apartment. Orange Soda, beer, and leftover Chinese food which smelled oddly of Hardison's van were all it contained. She closed the fridge, stood pointlessly for a moment, and then opened the fridge door again, this time with lowered expectations. Not surprisingly, there was nothing edible in the whole apartment.

She looked at the clock and sighed. Sophie and Nate were still in a client meeting, Parker was goodness knows where, Hardison was getting the van, to everyone's delight, cleaned and Eliot was out doing the food shopping, seeing as he trusted no one to get the right ingredients for him to cook with. She was beginning to regret not going with him; at least at the supermarket there would be food she could eat.

"This is a bad idea Nate," Sophie said as her and Nate walked through the door. "There's no way he's going to go for this."

"He's going to have to be isn't he?" Nate replied and then looked up at Abby in the kitchen who was still staring aimlessly at the fridge.

"You good there Abby?" he asked.

"I'm hungry, there's no food," she stated simply then walked into the living area and flopped down on the couch.

"Yes well, you can blame you and Parker for that for that one," Sophie stated as she sat down and pulled her shoes off.

"And who's not going for what?" Abby asked.

"Nothing," Sophie said, a little too quickly just as Eliot walked through the door carrying several bags of groceries.

"Thank goodness," Abby exclaimed. "I'm starving!" She ran into the kitchen and began helping her uncle put away the food, her ulterior motive, of course trying to find something to eat.

"How was the client meeting?" Eliot asked opening the fridge and throwing out the questionable container of Chinese.

"Ah, good," Nate replied vaguely as he poured himself a drink at his desk.

"Aha!" Abby exclaimed as she fetched out a container of dip and a bag of chips.

"Really?" Eliot asked. "Dinner's gonna be ready in like an hour."

"Yes," she said as she opened the bag. "I'm starving." She walked off and plonked herself down on the couch, turning on the TV to Phineas and Ferb.

"So who's the client," Eliot asked Nate and Sophie as he pulled on an apron and began to prepare the meal.

"School teacher," Nate replied. "Some rich, private school on the upper east side."

"All of their scholarship students have had their scholarships taken away from them for some ridiculous reason or another. The money's being pocketed by one of the teachers," Sophie continued, walking over to the kitchen and leaning on the bench.

Eliot paused from his current task of chopping onions and spun the knife, the tip resting on the chopping board and the hilt in his palm, as he stared threateningly at Nate.

"Eliot I..."

"Dammit Nate," Eliot hissed. "I know what you're planning and don't. Don't even think about it."

"Eliot the school doesn't have any scholarship students left. We need a scholarship student."

"What the hell are you thinking? She doesn't need this."

"Eliot, I know you love her more than anything and I also know that you know that this is inevitable. She's too smart and not to mention she wants to," Sophie pointed out.

"Sometimes kids don't know what they want," the hitter replied bitterly.

"That's not true for Abby," Nate paused waiting for a reaction from the hitter. "Look Eliot, it's a job in a school. All she has to do is go in and, well, go to school. Nothing dangerous, nothing illegal..."

"Except for the fake identity thing," Eliot pointed out.

"Eh, semantics," he dismissed. "You can get a job as a teacher and be there the whole time."

"Eliot these kids in the program, they come from really bad backgrounds," Sophie began, seeing that Eliot was still unconvinced. "I'm talking foster care, parents in prisons. Do you know what this education can do for them? What it's giving them an opportunity for?"

"Are you seriously trying to guilt me into this?" he asked Sophie angrily.

"Eliot," she replied softly. "What if that was Abby. No family, no money but she was given a chance to change that."

"And?" Eliot questioned, flicking the hair out of his face.

"And then imagine that was taken away," the grifter continued. "Wouldn't you want to give that opportunity back to her?"

Eliot placed down the knife which he had been toying with in his hand and then took a deep breath, and brushed the hair out of his face once more. Sometimes he hated it when Nate was right.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Abby tugged at her uniform.

"Couldn't we con a school that didn't have a uniform? It's really scratchy," she complained.

_ "At least you ain't wearin' a stupid tweed jacket,"_ Eliot said on the other side of the comms.

_"I don't know what you're complaining about,"_ Parker stated. _"At least you guys get to have some fun. I'm stuck here in this stupid van."_

_"Hey don't be dissin' on the van,"_ Hardison complained as he walked into the teacher's lounge at the school.

"You're all hopeless," Sophie said as she stepped out of the car and stared at the mammoth of a school in front of her. She looked at Abby, getting out of the other side of the car and gave her a small, reassuring nod. "You ready?"

"Yeah, I think so," the teenager replied and together they walked inside.

"Sorry about taking you out of school by the way," Sophie apologised. "We'll have you back there in no time."

"I don't mind," Abby shrugged as she admired the enormity of the school. Tall pillars loomed over them and the marble which decorated a large proportion of the building gave it the unmistakable statement of money; this was definitely a rich kid school. "I think I needed a break from there anyway."

"Oh?" Sophie enquired.

"I don't exactly fit in and Kyle well," she began venting then halted, realising she could be heard by everyone via comms. "Kyle's a scaredy-cat," she finished.

j**inxcat21…. I wish I could say this was because you asked for it and take the credit for being awesome at requests but really it was already in motion and next on the list to publish. ****I hope you like it, regardless.**

**quirkapotamus- thanks! I always though Eliot would make an excellent father... his skill's really be put to the test in about after this job concludes**


	14. The School Job Part 2

**I'm a horrible person!**

**I can't believe I made you wait this long for the next chapter! I'm just really trying to do this story (con) justice so I'm taking my time. On top of that I've just started university/college/whatever you want to call it so my time has been spread thin.**

**Unfortunately, the next update is a while away =( **

**I promise you it's coming! And to anyone reading my Psych/Leverage fic, same deal.**

* * *

><p>Abby sat down awkwardly in the back of the classroom, staring nervously at the people around her. It wasn't the fact that she was on a job that was making her nervous; it was the fact that she was at a new school. She had always hated the first day of school; as a kid, she had moved around a lot as Eliot was moved from base to base and, after his army days, it was safer for them not to stay in one place. Not to mention the fact that Moreau liked to move them from city to city; show that he was still in control.<p>

"Hey," a voice came from next to her.

"Hey," she replied as their home room teacher walked in.

"Morning class," she greeted happily. Abby didn't know it, but she was the client. "We have a new student with us today Miss," she paused to read the name off a slip of paper. "Emily Briggs."

Abby nodded her head as a brief hello before the class began.

"You're new here?" the boy next to her whispered as the teacher was talking.

"That's what the teacher just said," Abby whispered back, strengthening the American part of her accent as she pretended to take notes; she had already taken this class at her own school.

"Where you from?" he persisted.

"New Orleans," she said, sticking to her back story.

"I'm Alan," he said grinning. "Listen, we're having a party tonight. You interested?"

"No," she replied bluntly.

"Why not?" he said with puppy dog eyes.

"Because," she said, turning to face him for the first time, sizing him up; he clearly came from money and he clearly didn't care about anyone or anything but himself. "I'm not interested in helping you steal your dad's Merlot and 100 year old whiskey."

Alan chuckled.

"Actually, my father prefers Shiraz. But suit yourself."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxx

"Two new teachers in one day? How about that," one of the school's History teachers began.

"There's another new teacher?" Hardison enquired, staying fully in character.

"Yeah, Jack Harrison the English teacher," the man said, gesturing over to Eliot, pouring himself a cup of coffee on the other side of the room.

"Perhaps I'll go introduce myself," Hardison said and walked over to Eliot.

_ "Everything good guys?"_ Nate asked over the comms.

"Yeah," Eliot replied, taking a sip of his coffee. "This Mouser guy's pretty boring."

"Keeps to himself mostly," Hardison added as he looked over to their mark; a larger, balding man wearing thick glasses which looked like they'd stepped directly out of the eighties, and a cumbersome, unsightly yellow tinged suit; it was no wonder why he kept to himself.

**Several Days Earlier**

_ "This is our mark?" Sophie asked in the apartment as they planned the job. She was staring at the image of Kirk Mouser up on the screen. "Because it doesn't look like it."_

"_Looks can be deceiving," Abby stated, sitting on the couch next to her uncle._

"_Sometimes yes," the grifter agreed. "But look; coffee stain on his tie, ill-fitting suit, old, scratched glasses. The man looks like he has the self-esteem of an anorexic teenager."_

"_The money was transferred to his account," Hardison stated, defending his research. _

"_I'm not saying you're wrong. I'm just wondering what makes him tick," Sophie explained as she leaned forward on the bench, eyeing down the mark even more carefully. "I bet he stole that money so he can prove to himself that he's got balls."_

"_Can we move on with the briefing please?" Nate pushed; Sophie had been doing this a lot lately, taking her directors'/actress' lenses to their marks an increasing amount the past few weeks. She hadn't been in a play for the same amount of time and, apparently, she was suffering withdrawals and a minor (and irritating) case of transference. _

_ Sophie shrugged. "Go on," she gestured, though her mind was still churning through all of the possibilities of what made their mark tick._

"_So Mouser, this guy is clean," the hacker continued. "He's got no criminal record; the only thing the cops have on him is an old parking ticket from 'ninety- two."_

"_Doesn't seem like much of a criminal." Abby stated._

"_People like this, they're opportunistic criminals," Sophie began as she stood up straight. "They're stealing the money because the opportunity to do so was presented to them. So, to play him, we give them an even better opportunity, high yield, low risk sort of thing and…"_

"_Get him to slip." Abby concluded._

"_Stop teaching her how to be a criminal Sophie," Eliot scalded from the other side of the room._

"_It's character building," Sophie yelled before she turned back to the teenager._

* * *

><p>"You gonna go talk to him?" Hardison asked, lightly nudging Eliot with his elbow.<p>

"Ain't my job to," he replied, smugly taking another sip of his drink. The hacker gave Eliot an unappreciative stare before mumbling something and walking over to the mark.

"David Connell," Hardison introduced, his hands folded comfortably behind his back.

"Uh, Kirk Mouser," the mark replied, somewhat surprised. "I'm in charge of the money here."

* * *

><p><em> You're sure that it's him?" Sophie asked once more.<em>

"_Yes, Sophie, yes I'm sure," Hardison replied, crossing his arms defiantly. _

"_But…."_

"_Look, the money went through his account not to mention he's the only one who has access to all of the accounts where the money was taken," the hacker explained._

"_The backstory just doesn't fit," Sophie complained._

"'_Ts not a play Sophie," Eliot growled in frustration._

"_Can we just get back to the briefing," Nate complained once more and all heads turned to Hardison to finish his presentation._

* * *

><p>"Very cool, very cool," Hardison replied.<p>

"And what do you do?" the mark asked the hacker as he reached for a doughnut.

"I'm the new chemistry teacher," Hardison informed proudly.

"What happened to the old one?" Mouser enquired and Hardison considered for a moment telling the man how they possibly pulled a Breaking Bad and planted a small amount of drugs in his car and how they possibly called the police and informed them of such. Then he remembered that this guy was their mark and shook the thought from his mind.

* * *

><p><em> "Isn't that a bit, uh, immoral?" Abby questioned. "I mean, the guy hasn't done anything wrong?" she continued, referring to the Chem teacher. <em>

"_You'd think that wouldn't you?" Hardison asked sarcastically. "I went through his computer files, browser history, spending habits…."_

"_Cut the geek Hardison," Eliot threatened. _

"_Anyway, guy should not be working in a school," Hardison continued, ignoring the hitter's veil (he hoped) threats. "He's a grade A perv. I found photos of young…"_

"_Yeah, okay, I'm totally okay with the planting of drugs on this guy," Abby agreed_

* * *

><p>"Anyway," Hardison said, shaking the man's hand once more. Only, this time, with his other hand holding his phone, he placed it next to the man's pocket, allowing the high tech device to clone the man's phone. "I should be getting to class."<p>

"Of course, doesn't pay to be late on your first day," Mouser replied, a forced chuckle protruding from his lips. Hardison nodded, flipping his phone in his hand as he walked away while the man buried his face into a donut.

Once he was out of sight, and standing back next Eliot, he looked through the phone.

"Nothin' outta the ordinary Nate," Eliot informed.

"Yeah," Hardison confirmed. "Looks like he's working alone. The only contacts he got is his mamma, brother and his hairdresser."

"_Good," _Nate replied as he adjusted his hat rear-view mirror. _"Makes my job a lot easier."_

* * *

><p><strong>Again, thank you for your patience and wonderful awesome reviews and such!<strong>

**For anyone who doesn't know, I'm a sucker for a good review *hint hint***

**Ta**


	15. The School Job Part 3

Nate's suit looked expensive, classy; the open collar and hat, however, gave him a casual, relaxed look. Exactly the type of look a questionable businessman would have.

He walked up to Mouser's office and rapped on the door.

"Come in," the mark's voice replied, raspy and overworked. Nate did as the man instructed and went in.

Mouser was sitting at his desk, flicking through papers and crunching numbers. He paused when he saw Nate; the smart suit and sly grin of an eager businessman an unseen sight in Mouser's damp and dusty office.

"Can I help you?" Mouser asked with a hint of confusion in his voice.

"Probably, yes," Nate stated as he shut the door behind him and began meandering about the office; trying hard not to touch anything. "My name is Josh Lawson and I'm here to present to you an exciting opportunity."

"Really?" the mark asked, still confused.

"Yes. Really," Nate replied. "I work for a group who help, uh, with alternate funding."

"Alternate funding?" he asked, baffled.

"Yes, like your scholarship program," Nate prompted.

"Oh," he said, his voice still bewildered. "Oh," he repeated, this time with realisation in his tone. "Well, I'm very interested. Our funds for that program have been," he paused and let out an unsanitary cough. "limited. What did you have in mind?"

"It's called table turning," Nate began pulling out a chair to sit down on and then, seeing its state, decided against it and shook his head at himself; he honestly couldn't fathom how, in such a prestigious school, someone could have such a sordid office.

He also couldn't understand how such a disgusting person could work in such a prominent place. But then again, Nate thought, it's not as though he spent a lot of his time with people. The majority of his hours were spent crunching numbers in his office.

"Table turning?" Mouser queried.

"It's a simple play really," Nate smiled.. "The basic premise is that you charge a little bit extra here, a little bit extra there, not so much that the people you're charging will notice," he added as a side note.

"Like?"

"Like, for example," Nate continued as he paced about the room. "Bring up the cost of parking, uniforms, charge them for locker use or up the fee on late library books."

"But that would only bring in, what, _maybe_, a hundred dollars?" Mouser asked.

"Per kid," Nate clarified. "And you got, what 800 students minimum? That's 800 grand."

"So you're saying that, being in charge of the money and the cash flow, I up the price of the little things, don't tell the board and then pocket the money myself?"

Nate nodded, a sly grin growing upon his face. "Thought you'd catch on quick," he praised.

"What's in it for you then?" he questioned.

"Well, it may be easy enough for you to hide your money from the school but from the government, and the IRS, that's a different story. Now, I don't know what you did with the other funds you've acquired but my profession is cleaning funds, but I needed fresh dough," Nate explained.

The man was still for a moment, staring at the papers on his desk; his eyes echoed uncertainty. "I, um, well, don't know."

"You don't have to decide right now," Nate replied, holding his hands up. "Just think about it; here's my card." He tossed a card onto the man's desk. "Call me when you decide to make some money."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Can I leave this stupid school yet?" Abby asked, stuffing her books into her locker.

"_I kinda like it here," _Hardison replied.

"That's because you get to blow things up," she replied. Hardison grinned at this; he couldn't deny that he enjoyed the perks of being a chemistry teacher. Particularly one that didn't care if he got fired, seeing as it wasn't a real job. "I'm stuck here talking to stuck up teenagers who have waaay too much money."

"_Yeah well, _we _all have way too much money," _Hardison grinned.

"_How can you have too much money?" _Parker queried.

"_Yeah but we don't shove it in people's faces like some o' these kids do," _Eliot chimed in. "_I got told three times today _by students _that their daddy owns the newspaper or oil or whatever so I need to do what _they _say."_

"I feel sorry for all of the other scholarship students who went here," Abby continued as she walked to her next class. "Half of the students treat you like sh… dirt."

"_At least the other half are nice to you?" _Parker said, trying to be sympathetic.

"You'd think so," the teenager replied sarcastically. "A quarter of them don't say a word, one eight of them are cordial and the rest are nice. But still, that's ridiculous. You guys stole a country right?"

"_Yeah?" _Hardison grinned.

"You reckon you can con the kids at the school into being nice?"

"_Might just be easier to finish the job and get outta here," _Nate suggested alternatively

"Fair enough," Abby shrugged. "So how do you get this guy on the hook?"

"_We get Sophie to spook him into needing money, which will make him make a transaction…"_

"So you can catch him in the act," she concluded. "Cool."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mouser returned home that evening to find Sophie measuring out the perimeter of his perfectly manicured lot. Perfectly kept rose bushes, azaleas, violets and petunias framed the small, simple yet modern house; clearly he cared more about his personal life than he did his professional one.

"Excuse me?" Mouser queried, placing his brief case down next to his letterbox. "Can I help you?"

"No," Sophie replied in an American accent, looking up only for a moment before she returned to her task. She was dressed in a mediocre suit, and her hair tied into a tight ponytail she screamed banker.

"This is my land," Mouser pointed out.

"Not for long," she sing-songed.

"What do you mean?" he asked in an uncomfortable laugh.

"Mortage payments, tut, tut; you really should get behind on those," Sophie explained as she let the measuring tape snap back before standing up and straightening her jacket.

"Mortgage payments? But I'm up to date…."

"Not according to the bank you're not," Sophie interrupted as she pulled out a folded out piece of paper from her purse and handed it to Mouser.

"I'm _ahead_ on my payments," he said angrily, his hands gripping the letter. "This says I'll lose my house by Friday?"

"That's correct," Sophie smiled.

"But I'm _ahead _on my payments," he stated again with a clenched jaw.

"Well, that there," Sophie stated, pointing at the letter. "Says that you have to come up with the money."

"By Friday?" he confirmed and Sophie smiled again and nodded.

"Otherwise you're beautifully kept patch of land is going to find itself being turned into a…. I'm thinking parking lot."

Mouser gawked and shoved the letter back into Sophie's arms.

"That _won't _happen," he exclaimed as he picked up his suitcase and stormed into his house.

"Expect a call Nate," Sophie said proudly as she walked back to her car.

* * *

><p><strong>So I'm back, mostly! Thanks for your patience and BIG HUMONGOUS shout out to SweetyKinz, you're Betaingre sparking my muse and getting me out of my writers block is very much appreciated.**

**Review if you will, otherwise, have an excellent day =)**


	16. The School Job Part 4

"I'm so glad I never went to high school," Parker mumbled as she shovelled Chinese into her face. "It's weird."

"Not going to argue with you there," Abby replied. "Did any of you finish high school?" she queried as an afterthought, gesturing for Hardison to pass the rice.

"I did," Eliot declared, grabbing the rice off the hacker and passing it along the table no his niece. "Nate did," he continued then paused to look at Sophie; he wasn't sure about her. No one was really sure of anything about Sophie.

"Yes and no," Sophie informed vaguely as she reminisced about days gone by. "A story for another time."

"Hardison?" Abby asked, passing the rice back up the table.

"Never graduated," the hacker confessed. "Probably because I spent most of my senior year hacking rather than doing any _actual_ school work. Don't think I even went to school half the time," he added as an afterthought, laughing slightly.

"I have such great role models," Abby stated sarcastically as Nate's phone rang, sitting on the table next to the dinner plate in front of him. "You gonna get that?" Abby asked after the device rang for a few times.

Nate held up a finger and let the device ring a few more times before he finally picked it up. "Lawson," he declared.

_"Hi, it's Kirk Mouser,"_ the man declared over the phone.

"Ah Mr Mouser," Nate smiled. "So you thought about my offer then?"

_"Yes; I, uh, I want in."_

"Good, that's good to hear. But I'm, ah, going to need some sort of, ah, indication that you can do what you can say you do," Nate instructed as he took a bite of a piece of broccoli on his plate.

_"But you already know what I can do,"_ he stated._ "Otherwise why would you have come to me?"_

"I know what you can do, not how. I need to see your methods," he explained.

_"Then after, I need to see your methods,"_ Mouser demanded.

"Naturally," Nate agreed. "So tomorrow?"

_"Tomorrow,"_ Mouser agreed and hung up the phone.

"With any luck," Nate said to Abby. "Tomorrow will be your last day at that school."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So Mouser show me how this is done," Nate exclaimed waiting patiently in the mark's office for him to do his thing. They needed him to move the money so Hardison could do his geek thing and trace it and get back the stolen money for the victims.

"Okay," Mouser mumbled as he shovelled a doughnut into his face. "The first thing we do is figure out some reason for the student to be let go or expelled or whatever."

"And how do you do that?" Nate enquired.

"The school has a zero tolerance for drugs," he began as he wiped the sugar from around his mouth. "Plant a joint into their locker and an anonymous tip into the office, they'll be, ah, gone before you can blink."

"Elegant," Nate admired. "How long until…" he began but trailed off at hearing the commotion at Abby's end of the comms.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"That's not mine," Abby exclaimed as one of the admin staff held up a small zip lock bag containing two small joints.

"Has anyone else had access to your locker?" the admin asked.

"No but-"

"Then it must have been you," she interrupted without the slightest notion of condolence or remote interest in Abby's plea in her voice.

"It wasn't me!" the teenager continued.

"I'm sorry miss," she continued, her voice still filled with apathy. "You're well aware of the rules."

Numerous teenagers now formed a ring of shame and excitement around Abby and the admin and, even though she knew it was part of the con, she couldn't help find herself growing angry at the injustice of it all.

"But it's not mine!" she exclaimed once more. "Why would I-"

_ "Abby let it go,"_ Sophie suggested. _"This is what we want."_

Abby rolled her eyes and let herself be led by one of the faculty members through the crowd of teenagers. Out of the corner of her eye and through the judging stares of her would be peers, she noticed Alan and his two friends leaning smugly against the wall as they sarcastically waved her goodbye.

She was marched through the corridors and past Mouser's office, where Nate gave her a reassuring nod as she walked by before he turned back to the mark.

"Elegant," he admired once more. "When does the money get transferred?"

"It's transferred already," Mouser smiled as he stood up and simultaneously hitched up his belt.

"Aready?" Nate raised a questioning eyebrow and Mouser nodded proudly. "Won't they notice it's been transferred before the kid's actually been kicked out?"

"They won't notice," Mouser replied. "They _don't_ notice. So what now?"

"Hmm?"

"What now? I showed you what I can do, now it's your turn," he clarified.

"First I need the money to launder," Nate fake laughed, trying to push things along.

Mouser pulled a pen out his poorly kept front pocket and scribbled some numbers on a sticky note. He coughed in an unsanitary manner before handing it over to Nate, who took it with intrigue and slight disgust.

"What's this?" Nate queried.

"The account where the money is kept," he explained. "You're sure you can get it to me clean?"

"Positive," the mastermind reassured. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't." Mouser shrugged in agreeance.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some money to clean," Nate said walking out the door, already snapping a picture of the note and sending it to Hardison so he could start working his magic.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_ "Hardison I just sent you the details to Mouser's account. I'm going to assume you can do something with that?" _Nate asked rhetorically as Hardison spun uselessly in his chair in his alias' office.

"With that, I can do anything!" he exclaimed happily, flexing out his fingers and cracking his neck in preparation.

"_Can you build a dinosaur?" _Parker exclaimed excitedly from the van. "_How about a time machine? Space whales? Anti-gravity boots! Ooh…"_

"On the computer? Sure," he indulged knowing the thief was extremely bored. He turned his attention back to the task at hand and keyed in the numbers Nate had sent him.

Hang on? They looked familiar?

The hacker paused for a moment to think.

Dang nabbit, the others weren't going to like this.

Okay, okay, he'd learnt how to deal with this by now. He just needed something to soften the bad news.

Like the money; what he was meant to be finding in the first place.

He set to work, searching for anything useful. He was half an hour into his search when he came across more bad news.

It was another five minutes before he finally decided to break the news to the team.

"Uh guys we gotta problem." Hardison declared cautiously.

_ "What?" _Eliot growled.

"I don't think Mouser was the mastermind behind this."

_ "Dammit Hardison!"_ Eliot swore.

_ "How are we just finding this out now?"_ Nate asked.

"You know how we decided that he was the guy…."

_ "You,"_ Sophie interrupted. _"How _you_ decided."_

"Fine," Hardison huffed. "How I decided that he was the guy because he was the only one who had access to the money and it was transferred into his account."

_" Yeah?"_

"Turns out the money was then withdrawn from his accounts three days later…"

_ "Which we already knew,"_ Nate pointed out.

"The account that Mouser gave us? It's where he's keeping the money before it's withdrawn. Not where he's putting it after. We got nothing."

"_Why does that mean he's not the guy?" _Parker enquired.

"So after I couldn't find the money, I dug a little deeper into where it could have been and where it might have been spent and there's no record of him spending any of the money," Hardison explained. "No large transactions, no holidays, cars, he didn't pay off his mortgage."

_ "How the hell did you miss that?"_ Eliot enquired.

"I didn't have time," he confessed. "We did just sorta jump into this con."

_ "What does that mean?"_ Abby asked.

_ "It means we don't have the mastermind behind this,"_ Nate declared. "_Mouser's not our guy."_

* * *

><p><strong>So I think I owe you guys an explanation.<strong>

**I had gotten back into writing, everything was going good, awesome even. When, low and behold, my laptop decided to break.**

**But I did not fret, as had saved the story to my Hard Drive and also had a back up in the cloud.**

**So, I was forced to use a laptop from the mid 2000's to write, and write I did.**

**Until stupid open office decided to corrupt my story. All 70,000 words of it.**

**But worried I was not, because I was smart and backed it up to the cloud. **

**Alas, when I looked, it turns out the last time I'd saved it to the cloud was early January.**

**Long story short, I lost 20,000 words of my story and am now slowly rewriting it. **

**BUT, thanks to SweetyKinz, I still had a fairly recent version of this con so, that's why it's taken me so long. **

**I'm back on a modern day laptop now and am writing off the cloud so I never have to worry about losing it. **

**Anyway, thanks for your patience, let me know what you think =)**

**Thanks again SweetyKinz! you rock!**


	17. The School Job Part 5

**The School Job Part 5**

**AN. Because, for some reason FF doesn't let me tab (in like I normally do for when people are talking on comms) anymore, when someone's talking on comms, it'll be in italics and with tildas, ~_like so~. _Let me know if this is okay or if you have any other suggestions =)**

* * *

><p>"How did we miss this?" Sophie enquired as she leant on the door of Lucille. The team had called an emergency meeting; Nate, Sophie, Parker, Abby and Hardison had convened at the van while Eliot, who had classes, remained where he was expected.<p>

"It doesn't matter now," Nate dismissed. "What matters now is finding out who's behind this."

"You know Hardison I don't like to say I told you so…" Sophie began.

"Hey, hey, hey," Hardison replied. "He still stole the money; just wasn't the grand puppet master is all," the hacker stated in a feeble attempt to try and defend his honour.

"And you can't track the money?" Parker enquired, though she already knew the answer.

"Trace the actual, physical cash he took out from the bank?" he confirmed sarcastically. "I ain't that good."

"There was nothing on his phone," Nate began, thinking out loud. "Email? Snail Mail? Fax?" Hardison shook his head at all three.

"Umm, I know I'm new at this," Abby began. "But couldn't you just, ask him?"

"Well…"

"Uh…"

_~"Kid's gotta point,"_ Eliot joined in.~

"That makes weird sense," Parker agreed.

"Off you go then," Sophie grinned, flinging Nate his hat from inside the van.

"No, no," Nate said, grabbing the hat and tossing it in his hand. "Eliot'll do it; he's much more convincing."

_~"Gotcha,"_ Eliot said, looking at his watch and calculating the time until he could slip away to the man's office unnoticed by the annoyingly attentive students.~

"Hardison slip Eliot a badge; I'm thinking dirty cop."

"Got it," the hacker replied, pulling an FBI badge out of one of the draws before flashing it to Nate and slipping into his pocket.

"Okay, in the meantime, we need to get Abby back in the school. My guess is we're going to need her."

"But I just got out," the teenager whined.

"Think of it this way, more time away from school," Sophie suggested. "And the people in school," she added more quietly.

"Fine," Abby agreed reluctantly as she grabbed her blazer from the back of the van and pulled it on reluctantly.

"And uh, nicely done Abby," Nate added.

* * *

><p>Eliot did not knock when he entered Mouser's office; he simply pushed open the door with enough force to make the mark jump in his seat.<p>

"Mr…." Mouser began then paused to search for the right name. "Harrison."

Eliot said nothing and walked across the room and stood with his arms crossed opposite Mouser, who sat timidly at his desk.

"Can I help you?" he asked nervously.

"My name's Mark Priestly, I'm with the FBI," Eliot said, slamming his badge on the desk.

"Oh no," Mouser said as he began to sweat.

"That's right," Eliot nodded. "Now, we know you're not the master mind behind this little operation you got going on here."

"Operation?"

"Cut the crap," Eliot said quickly as he lent forward with both arms stretched out on the desk, his face terrifyingly inches from Mousers. "The only thing we care about is the people behind this. So?"

"They…they…blackmailed me," Mouser stammered as he wiped some of the sweat from his brow.

"Who?" Eliot queried as he stared the mark straight in the eye.

Mouser held up a sweaty finger and inched himself out of his chair before walking over to one of the filing cabinets jammed against the wall; Eliot's eyes followed him carefully. The man reached behind the cabinet and, as his arm disappeared between the cavity Eliot jumped up and grabbed the man's bicep, pulling Mouser's arm quickly into view; behind a filing cabinet would be a perfect place to keep a gun and, even if Mouser didn't look like a threat, Eliot couldn't take that chance.

Mouser held his hands up innocently and stepped back out of the way as Eliot reached into the cavity and, after feeling around for a few seconds pulled a taped file of the back of the cabinet.

"Is this them?" the hitter asked as he tore the tape off the file. Mouser nodded nervously and Eliot opened the file. "This? This is them?" Eliot questioned in disbelief as he stepped threateningly towards the mark.

"Yes, yes, I promise that's them," Mouser reassured quickly.

"Talk," Eliot instructed. "Um," Mouser began timidly before he forced himself to calm. "They found out that I had debts and that I was going to lose my house…." He trailed off.

"And?" Eliot pressed.

"And that I'd siphoned money from a few of the school's accounts into my own to get ahead of my payments," the man finally confessed. "They said if I didn't they were going to turn me over to the police."

"So they blackmailed you to get money for themselves?" Eliot confirmed and Mouser nodded.

"How often do they get you to take the money?"

"Whenever there's a scholarship student," he began. "When we get a new one, the funds for the remainder of their education here at the academy is put into a separate account so, even if the school loses funding, the money is always there for the student."

"So how does getting the money work?"

"They," Mouser said, pointing at the file. "And me we arrange for the student to be expelled or let go from the school. And after they're gone I siphon the money from the scholarship account into my own."

"And no one notices?"

Mouser shook his head. "No, according to the school book the money was already classed as spent when it's placed in the account. It's my job to move it back when a student is let go, but…"

"No one misses what they never knew was there," Eliot concluded. "Okay Mouser, here's what's going to happen; you're going to play along with these guys and act like nothing is wrong. When we approach you to catch these guys you will do what I say," Eliot instructed and in an authoritative and forceful manner; it wasn't a request.

"Of… of course," Mouser stammered.

Eliot gave the man one final death glare before he walked out of the man's office, still clutching the files in his hand.

_~"And our culprits are?"_ Hardison questioned who, like the others, had been listening throughout the entire conversation.~

"Alan Devlin, Michael Rogers and Bram," Eliot squinted his eyes for a second. "Bram?" he questioned to himself in disbelief; that was almost worse than Skyler. "Bram Newhouse," he finished.

_~"Hang on, I know them,"_ Abby stated.~

"Yeah," Eliot replied knowingly.

_~"__They're students,"_ Abby exclaimed.~

* * *

><p><strong>Ooooh! Did you see that coming (I'm pretty sure some of you did)<strong>

**Thanks for you're awesome continued support, I look forward to your reviews (hint hint)**

**Ta.**


	18. The School Job Part 6

"Students?" Hardison confirmed for the fiftieth time as they sat in the bar.

"Yeah, they're in a couple of my classes. Most of them, actually," Abby replied

"So what's the plan?" Parker asked eagerly.

"Well," Nate began but was promptly interrupted by Sophie.

"Hang on, we're okay with this?" the grifter enquired, looking at the others for support.

"Okay with what?" Nate questioned.

"With, I don't know, sending children to jail?" Sophie clarified.

"They stole a lot of money," Nate pointed out. "Stopped deserving people from going to school. And it's not as if it was out of necessity either. I mean, these guys are rich. They have everything they could ever want."

"Yeah, but-" Hardison began, but Nate did not falter.

"It wasn't because they need it," the mastermind continued. "or weren't raised right, it's because they wanted to." Nate paused to look at his team who were all uncomfortably avoiding his gaze. Except for Eliot, who was comfortably stocking drinks behind the bar. "And besides," he continued, "if we don't do anything, they'll never change and just keep hurting innocent people."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as the rest of the team considered both sides of the argument; it wasn't that they couldn't see Nate's logic, it was that personal experience and personalities with less apathy than their mastermind meant they saw things a little differently.

"I think we should go after them," Abby stated finally. "Maybe not send 'em to jail, but they can't get away with this."

Nate nodded in appreciation as he walked around to the backside of the bar and poured himself a drink. "Anyone have a problem then?" Nate queried, though it was entirely a rhetorical question. He was met with slight head shaking from the rest of the team.

"You have a plan then?" Eliot queried.

"Yup," Nate replied, quickly shooting back the whiskey, "but you're not going to like it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Eliot would you please calm down?" Abby implored as she walked into the school's crowded cafeteria. "I can hear you freaking out over comms and it's not helping."

~"_She shouldn't be doing this,"_ Eliot stated as he paced uncomfortably in the corner of the same room.~

"I want to do this," Abby replied as scanned the room looking for their mark.

_~"Just stick to the script,"_ he pleaded.~

_~"She'll be fine,"_ Sophie interrupted as Abby spotted her mark and walked over towards him in confidence.~

The teenager glared at her confusedly as she welcomed herself to his and his friends table, sitting at the chair opposite him and slipping him a sly smile as she leant forward; he looked surprised to see her.

"I thought you got kicked out?" he queried and Abby just grinned smugly. "Well, you've lasted longer than most of our other scholarship kids," Alan stated with such pretension in his voice.

"Three days?" Abby queried. "What is there some kind of conspiracy to get rid us?" she continued, half joking.

"That would be absurd," Alan replied.

"Yeah, I mean, getting scholarship kids kicked out just so you can pocket their money, that's just insane," she declared laughing ironically.

Alan stood up angrily, staring Abigail furiously in the eyes as his mouth gaped like a fish, deciding whether or not he wanted to say something.

Abby waited patiently for him to respond but he did not. Instead he stormed angrily out of the cafeteria, followed swiftly by his friends. Abby stood up to follow him.

_~"No, no,"_ Sophie said quickly. _"Let him go Abby."~_

"But I didn't…."

_~"He'll come to you,"_ Sophie reassured. _"Make sure they always come to you."~_

"Why?"

_~"Control Abigail, control. Always give your mark, or your man, the illusion of control."~_

_~"Sophie,"_ Eliot growled_. "What'd we say about teaching her to con?"~_

_~"That it was character building,"_ Sophie smirked.~

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"How did you know about that?" Alan asked as Abby faked her way to making the bus. She similarly faked surprise as she turned around and found him leaning against one of the buildings, his left foot up on the wall and a cigarette hanging from his fingers.

_~"See?"_ Sophie grinned_. "I told you he'd come to you."~_

"Know what?" Abby toyed.

"About the money," he clarified, stepping forward. "About my friends and mine's little job."

"You think a girl from New Orleans with no money makes it this far legitimately?" she grinned as she took a step forward and grabbed Alan's cigarette from his hand. "I mean, how do you think I didn't get kicked out?"

"I dunno, how?"

"You make it so," she smiled, then flicked the cigarette on the ground.

Alan laughed. "What'd you want then?"

"I want in," Abby smiled. "In on the money."

"Sorry, we're not exactly a business," he apologized. "And if we were, we wouldn't have an opening."

"Look, I could help you out," Abby tried to convince. "I know a lot."

"What do you know?" Alan asked mockingly.

"I know you wanna make money," Abby grinned. "Why?"

"What?"

"You have everything you could ever want, you obviously don't need the money," she began. "You see, men are guided by their desires. And you, well, you desire to leave your circumstances; turn your back on the pretty little mansion, maybe have some excitement, take some risks, make a little cash you didn't have to take from your parents?"

"Um," Alan blinked, looking a bit shocked as he tried to recover. Abby held in a smirk; she hit the nail right on the head.

"If you could include me in this," she continued, "give me some of the money, I could help you guys have the most exciting and risk taking con you ever laid your eyes on." Alan hesitantly gazed at the confident expression she wore.

"How would this work?" he queried, only with the slightest hint of caution in her voice.

~"_Just like we practiced Abby," _Sophie coached.~

"You come meet my boss. He likes you, we do a trial job together. If that works out, he lets you in on more."

"How much of a cut do you get?" he questioned.

"You don't really care about the money do you?" she queried in disbelief.

"A little," he confessed.

"Enough," she divulged. "You should give your friends a call, let them in," she said, nodding to his phone.

"They don't need to know," Alan stated and Abby paused for a moment, unsure of what to do.

~"_That's fine, the con'll work with just him. And if he's that controlling it's unlikely the others had a lot to do with the scholarship scam anyway," _Nate explained as he fixed his tie.~

"Right then, this way," Abby said and lead their mark to meet the boss.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Didn't think I was meant to be meeting you until next week," Nate said as he heard the door open to the dingy diner they had commandeered, without turning around. Parker sat broodingly in the corner booth, counting money; props from her own private stash.

"Got a guy here that wants to talk business," Abby declared, Alan trailing in, slightly lost, behind her.

"Oh?" Nate said, spinning around on his heels to face the two teenagers.

"Alan this is Simon," Abby introduced. "Simon, Alan."

"Hey," Alan began softly, his eyes squinting at Nate as he realised he recognised him. "You've been at the school for the last couple of days."

"Yes," Nate said matter of factly. "Trying to set up a job…."

"…which you were kind enough to interfere with, thanks very much, with his own little side business," Abby interjected, explaining the situation to Nate; or at least, so it would look that way for Alan.

"I didn't know," Alan defended and then took a moment to collect himself. "Emily here says you can get me in on some action?"

"I can," Nate stated, crossing his arms. "Why?"

"Why not," Alan replied.

Nate raised his brow and stared at Alan for a moment before he turned swiftly to Abby. "Jesse," Nate motioned to Parker, who put down the money and walked over to beside Nate, crossing her arms and looking Alan up and down. "Remember that side job we talked about?" Parker nodded. "Take him along, do it tonight."

"Nuh, uh," Alan rejected to the surprise of everyone.

"You don't want in now?" Nate queried.

"I don't know her," Alan replied, pointing at Parker. "Rule number three of good business; don't work with people you don't know."

~"_Well that's a stupid rule," _Sophie criticized from the van. "_If everyone thought that way I'd be out of a job."~_

"She's cool Alan," Abby assured but Alan shook his head again.

"I only work with Emily until I get to know you better," he re-stipulated as Nate pursed his lips and tapped his foot, trying to think of other options.

~"_Nate," _Eliot growled at the silence, knowing exactly what Nate was thinking.~

"Fine, you'll do it with Emily," Nate agreed; Abby's eyes widened in surprise. She had no idea how to break into anywhere and no idea what she was meant to be doing.

"That'll work fine," Alan agreed, fidgeting and grinning with excitement.

* * *

><p><strong>Glad you're all enjoying it, thanks for the reviews =)<strong>


	19. The School Job Part 7

"This is the job?" Alan queried, pointing slightly nervously at the school.

"You know that gavel that the headmaster that keeps on his desk?" she asked in response.

"The one that was a gift from Benjamin Franklin?" he asked, once again, in disbelief. "We're stealing that?"

Abby said nothing as she walked towards one of the side entrances to the school.

Thanks to Parker, the theft had been made easy.

Thanks to a handy button cam the thief had determined the code to the keypad guarding one of the janitorial entrances; Abby explained it to Alan as the janitors were sleazy with their information.

The cameras and sensors had also been taken care of by Parker and a simple cutting of wires leading to the central processing system (it wasn't a complicated system and, for a school, didn't really need to be). That was explained to Alan as the system being down for maintenance.

Next came the door to the headmaster's office, which had been pre-picked by Parker. To play it up for Alan, however, Abby pulled two bobby pins from her hair, untwisted them, placed them into the lock and fiddled them about for a second; it was easily enough to make him believe she was a teenage thief.

Then, like a trophy, there it was; sitting on the desk, just asking to be taken.

"Would you like to do the honours?" she queried, gesturing him to take the gavel.

Alan smiled as, his hands shaking with adrenaline, as he cautiously picked up the gavel.

"Let's go," Abby said, motioning Alan to lead the way out the door.

* * *

><p>"Holy… wow…I just….whew! that was awesome!" Alan exclaimed in excitement as the pair walked purposefully towards the nearest bus stop. He was flying on adrenaline, never having done anything that actively illegal before.<p>

Abby, who had similarly never done anything remotely close to that illegal before, had an odd, queasy feeling in her stomach. A feeling which made her certain that Parker's version of theft was not for her.

"Yeah," Abby replied nonchalantly, even though she was unsettled to the bone.

"_You're doing good Abby," _Nate praised, less than a block away in the van with the rest of the team, with Eliot being ready to strike if the moderately likely scenario arose where something went wrong. The hitter had been less than pleased when Nate had changed the con on him (and everyone)

~"_You ready for the next bit?" _Eliot questioned; Abby breathed in and out in preparation.~

"You still have it right?" Abby asked their mark who promptly pulled it from inside of his hoodie; Abby reached out to grab it. Alan took a moment to savour holding the acquired object in his hand then passed it over to Abby.

~"_Now," _Nate, watching through CCTV cameras, declared to Hardison.~

Like a perfectly in time Swiss watch, Abby's phone rang in her pocket as the gavel was being passed into her hand. She 'flinched' to grab it, expertly allowing the artifact to slip through her fingers. The gavel had now smashed into several hundred splinters.

The look on Alan's face was priceless and it took the reminders of Sophie and Eliot in her ear to remind her not to grin.

~"_Stay in character Abby," _Sophie gestured softly. "_What did you do," _she prompted further when still no words slipped from Abby's mouth.~

"What did you do?" she echoed to Alan.

"Me? You were meant to take it!" he defended.

"You dropped it!" she continued and then took a moment to pace around the splinters. "He's going to kill me," she muttered, running a 'worried' hand over her face.

"Who…"

"My boss!" she yelled. "He does not deal well with his assets being dropped."

~"_She's a natural," _Sophie praised from the van; Eliot let out a discerning growl. _"Now, see if you can't umm, nudge him towards helping you," _she continued, speaking directly to Abigail. "_Don't say anything explicit, just sort of a suggestion."~_

"What's the worst he could do?" Alan asked casually.

"If I don't pay him back for what it's worth?" she asked rhetorically in response. "Well we've never seen the last guy who lost an asset ever again; you do the math."

Alan snorted, either in nervousness of not knowing what to do, or in true indifference.

"That's not really my problem, is it?" he shrugged again and turned to walk away; Abby couldn't help but think 'asshole'.

"You think he won't hold you responsible as well?" Abby asked.

~"_Good, keep going with that," _Nate directed.~

"It's a gavel!" he yelled in disbelief that someone would care so much about a wooden hammer.

"Na-Simon is a control freak," Abby explained, but took a pause to recover from her almost slip of Nate's real name. "He tries to control everything and anything he can't control or is a threat to him, he destroys. And besides, it's actually worth _a lot _more than you think."

"So he's gonna come after me?" Alan questioned, worry growing slightly in his eyes. Abby nodded and Alan rubbed his face in nervousness. "Shit!" he swore. "Shit, shit shit!"

"Yup," Abby agreed.

"Hang on, you said if he got paid he'd let it go?"

"That only works if you have money,"

"How much money?" he asked quickly.

~"_Kay, just give me a sec," _Hardison said as he typed a few things into his computer.~

"Well?" Alan asked when she did not answer.

"I'm thinking!" she yelled back

~"_200,000," _Hardison informed her.~

"200,000," Abby said, partially relaying the info to their mark and partially questioning the massive number.

"I can get that," he replied, his voice calming slightly.

"Well, what are we waiting for?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They made their way swiftly to Alan's house (although a more appropriate term would be mansion) with the others tailing behind at a safe distance in the van.

To her surprise, Abby was not led into the main house to retrieve the money. Instead she was lead around the back and, in the dark, on a large property, surrounded by shrubbery; it did not build confidence or any sense of safety.

~"_Nate," _Eliot said worriedly; he was getting ready to pull her out at any moment's notice.~

"Right here," Alan said as he neared a large, ornamental urn. Abby let out a slight sigh of relief as she realised she wasn't going to get murdered.

"You keep your money in a giant urn?" Abby questioned.

~"_Too easy," _Parker noted. "_But smart."~_

"Safes and banks, they can get broken into but hiding your money," he explained as he reached his hand into the vase and pulled out a wad of cash. "Ensures security," he finished as he pulled out more cash.

"How is that you just have 200,000 dollars lying around?" Abby asked.

"I'm good with money," he explained vaguely as he handed Abby half the money. "After you," Alan suggested, pointing Abby back towards the driveway and following her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You lost my merchandise!" Nate yelled after Abby and Alan had returned to their appropriated base and 'informed him' of the 'bad news'.

"_He _lost your merchandise," Abby corrected, motioning her head towards Alan, who looked moderately terrified. "But he's got more than the necessary funds to pay for it." She nudged Alan in the arm, gesturing him to hand over the money. Alan did so, his arm shaking slightly in fear.

Abby couldn't notice the difference between the confident, cocky, man Alan had been at the school (when he had clearly been the big fish) to the terrified, shy and bumbling child Alan was now, when he was the tiniest fish in existence.

Nate counted the money and grinned a real, and not posed, grin of accomplishment; they had gotten what they wanted.

"That'll do," Nate said nonchalantly, still looking down at the cash. "But," he continued, looking up at Alan and staring him coldly in the eye, "you will never do business with us again; it's best for you if you forget this world."

Alan nodded fearfully.

* * *

><p><strong>Forgot to mention at the end of the last chapter that some of the dialogue was borrowed from the NYC Underground. Not an explicitly great movie, but it has some great dialogue and Clayne Crawford is gorgeous. <strong>

**Anywho, about two chapters left for this little con, then onto some episode tie ins!**

**Ta Ta**


	20. The School Job Part 8

The crowd gathering around Alan's locker the following morning was exceptionally larger than the ring which had assembled around Abby's several days earlier. The reason being, of course, that Alan was much more popular and significant and people loved seeing idols fall.

That and the fact that the news of the school's famous gavel being stolen had spread like wildfire and people had rightfully deduced a correlation between the theft and the opening of a student's locker.

"You can't open that! That's my locker," Alan complained as the custodian went to snip the lock of the locker. The headmaster stood beside him, arms crossed in defiance. "My father's on the school board; you can't do this!" he protested again, all credibility slipping as he went from proper preppy to self-indulgent child.

"We received a tip that the gavel was in your locker," the headmaster explained coolly.

"You can't open my locker because of a tip from a student! That's not credible!" he objected.

"The tip wasn't from a student. It was from a faculty member," the headmaster explained

~_Earlier~_

* * *

><p><em>Mouser jumped upon seeing Eliot waiting outside his office as he arrived at school that morning. <em>

_"__Agent Priestly," Mouser said nervously as he unlocked his door. Uninvited, Eliot followed him in. "What can…"_

_"__Do you remember how you agreed to help out when required?" Eliot questioned and Mouser nodded, gulping in nervousness. "Well, now you're required to help."_

_"__What do you…"_

_"__We need you to inform your headmaster that Alan Devlin was involved with last night's stunt and his locker should be searched immediately," Eliot instructed, without waiting for Mouser to finish his question; all the hitter wanted was for this job to be over and Abby to be out of any harm's way. _

_"__Okay, okay, I can do that," Mouser stated as though he was trying to reassure himself that he was in fact capable of the task. _

_"__Now," Eliot directed and Mouser got up out of his chair and scurried off to the principal's office. _

* * *

><p>Alan ran a worried hand through his sandy blond hair as the headmaster gestured to the custodian to open the locker.<p>

The pudgy janitor slammed the bolt cutters around the combination lock, let it fall to the floor and then stepped aside for the principal to inspect the locker.

The first thing he pulled out was a snap lock bag containing six, neatly rolled joints a package which didn't cause any notion of surprise on anyone's faces, Alan's included. His face instead showed a deep sense of regret and anger.

The second item which was pulled out was a fully intact gavel and it caused Alan's face to drop and his jaw to snap open in surprise.

~_The Night Before~_

_It had taken Parker three minutes to break into the school, leave it open for Abby to 'break in' and make it to the headmaster's office to switch out the real gavel for an exceptionally good, but extremely breakable replica. _

_It would have taken her five minutes, as opposed to fifteen, to then find Alan's locker, find the combination and then plant the real gavel inside had she not been so distracted by the extremely shiny, yet pointless orb sitting on the headmaster's desk._

_It took her all of her willpower to not steal the trinket. _

* * *

><p>"But, but, but, that broke!" he exclaimed, then snapped his mouth shut as he realised he should stop divulging information.<p>

"This way Mister Devlin," the headmaster instructed as he lightly grabbed Alan by the arm and led him through the crowd to his office.

"But, but, it wasn't, I didn't," he trivially tried to protest as he scanned the crowd. "Her!" he yelled when he spotted Abby, leaning against her uncle and surrounded by the rest of the team. "Emily Briggs! She's a thief, she stole it."

"She doesn't even go here," Parker yelled, the shouting blending in with the whispers and murmurs of the crowd.

"And him!" Alan continued, referring to Nate but still being hopelessly pulled along by the headmaster. "He's in on it too. All of them! They set me up! They set me up!"

That was the last of the yells that the team heard as a set of heavy, wooden doors were shut behind Alan and the headmaster. The second they were sealed, the hallway erupted into a group of gabbling teenagers, all trying to exchange whatever information they could on the dramatic scene that had just unfolded.

The team, however, slowly made their way to the nearest exit, all extremely happy with their success.

"I don't remember planting drugs in his locker being part of the plan?" Abby questioned as they stepped out of the building and out into the sunshine.

"It wasn't," Nate agreed. "Parker actually found them in there."

Abby looked at Parker for confirmation; the thief smiled and nodded as she fiddled with the shiny orb within her jacket pocket.

She just couldn't resist.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"This is amazing," their client smiled as she looked down at the pile of cash sitting in front of her. "I, uh, I think this is too much."

"No," Nate assured and was about to continue, before Abby, sitting next to him, spoke up. The teenager had insisted on meeting with the client to give her the money; she wanted to see the whole picture, the smile on the client's face and reassure herself that her breaking the law was for a good cause. Of course, Nate may have inferred that one from her body language.

"There's enough there for all of the students who got kicked out to go to school, any school, they want to," she guaranteed. "They deserve it, so it's not too much."

"And what happened to the person responsible?" the client enquired.

"Mr Devlin was expelled, brought up on possession charges and given community service. He's under pretty close watch but we'll check to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone else," Nate informed her.

The young woman smiled and thanked them one last time as she picked up the cash and walked out the door.

"That felt good," Abby declared after a few moments of silence.

Nate nodded in agreement and took a sip of his drink as the others walked over from the bar to join them.

"So, how did you like your first con?" Sophie queried, sliding in next to Nate and hooking her arm under his.

"Interesting," Abby stated, though honestly she was still unsure whether this fit for her, as exciting as it was. "I'm going to go with interesting."

"Stick with that," Hardison agreed.

"Hey, what happened to Mouser?" Abby questioned.

"Not much," Nate replied but trailed off upon seeing a mischievous, evil grin spread across Parker's face. "Something you want to tell us Parker?"

The thief smiled once more as she pulled, seemingly out of nowhere, a stem of petunias, roots and soil still attached and falling across the floor of the bar.

Sophie, the only one who realised the significance of the strange gesture, gasped. "You tore up his garden?"

"Yeah," Parker replied, her eyes wide.

"Parker, they were his prized possessions! Every dollar he had went into those plants," Sophie explained. The team looked at her, partially with disappointment and partially with great amusement; no one however, other than Sophie, said anything. "Just, tell us next time you plan on extracting revenge please?" Sophie conceded.

"Fine," Parker moaned.

"I'd also like to point out," Hardison stated, opting for a change in conversation. "That tomorrow is Friday and we have _no _jobs lined up. We have the weekend off."

A sigh of relaxation waved across the table.

"Perfect," Sophie declared. "Tara's coming into town so I can _actually _catch up with her."

"And I can go see Peggy," Parker said.

"Works well for me," Eliot declared.

"You have plans?" Sophie enquired.

"I've got a friend from the service coming into town, plus I owe Bonnano a poker game," he explained.

"What time?" Hardison asked.

"You're not invited," Eliot said with a straight face.

"What do you mean 'I'm not invited'?" the hacker questioned.

"You can't play poker," Eliot complained. "You just, just…"

"I'll be there at 7," Hardison decided, ignoring the hitter's joke. At least, he hoped it was a joke.

"Nate?" Sophie asked but the mastermind did not reply, instead he took a long sip of his whisky.

"Read up on some clients," he finally said as he stood up to get another drink from the bar. Eliot, who was sandwiched between Abby and Parker in the booth, not so unobtrusively slid out from between the two girls and followed Nate to the bar.

"Nate," Eliot said, seriousness in his voice as he lent on the bar. "She was too involved with that con. That was too far."

"Nothing happened…"

"I don't care, that was too much," he reiterated.

"Okay," Nate said simply; he partially agreed with Eliot, believing that the girl was too young, too innocent, to be involved with their business. The other part of him knew she was too smart, cunning and too much like her uncle to not be involved in their business. It was a difficult dilemma. "Okay," he said once more, deciding, for now, it was not his place to impose.

"Good," Eliot stated, snatching himself another beer before walking back to the booth, where Sophie was dealing out playing cards.

"What are we doing?" Nate, who had followed Eliot back from the bar, questioned.

"Teaching me how to play poker," Abby said proudly.

Eliot grinned and pulled up a chair. "She's gonna beat you ya know," he declared to Hardison, picking up his cards.

"She ain't never played before," Hardison protested.

"A monkey could beat you," Eliot quipped. "She's sharp, that's all I'm sayin'."

"We'll see about that," Parker said, squinting her eyes and preparing herself to win.

* * *

><p><strong>So, I hope you enjoyed that! Anyone care to guess what's up next? It was not so subtly hinted to above. <strong>

**Many, many, super, uber thanks to SweetyKinz for betaing and being awesome. **

**And many thanks to you, kind reader, for your loyalty, especially through that little hiatus =)**

**Any requests or ideas, don't hesitate; I always love fresh thoughts =)**


	21. The GirlsBoys Night Out Job

"So do you still have plans with Bonnano and your army buddy?" Sophie asked as she touched up her make up.

"Yeah, should be here in an hour," he said as he pulled out a deck of cards from Nate's desk.

"And Abby?"

"Movie night at a friends'," he said happily.

"You're really glad she's not one of those partying teenagers aren't you?" Sophie joked.

"You have no idea," he replied. "Hardison!" he yelled, trying to get some help from the hacker to move the card table.

"Yeah, I'm coming man!"

"You still going out with Tara?" the hitter enquired.

"Yes," Sophie replied. "And it shall be fabulous."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Wait a second?" Tara asked, utterly bewildered. "Eliot has a kid?"

"Niece, but the man pretty much raised her," she replied as she gestured to the bartender for another drink.

"I cannot picture Eliot as the parental type," she stated then brushed her long hair out of her face.

"Neither could I but he's wonderful with her. And, if I might add, she'd make a wonderful grifter."

"I can't imagine Eliot letting that happen. But enough about work," Tara complained.

"You're right," Sophie agreed as she raised her glass, "to a night of unbridled debauchery."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Just for the record, Block Buster sucks," Abby exclaimed as she opened the door to Nate's apartment. Walking through to the kitchen she paused, more confused than startled at the tall, dark haired, extremely handsome man twisting Detective Bonnano's hand behind his back.

"Should I be concerned?" She asked as the man released Bonnano, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

"Abby, this is Shelley," Patrick introduced as he coughed slightly, letting the air back into his lungs. "Shelley this is Abby Spencer."

"I'm a friend of Eliot," Shelley explained.

"Oh, that explains the ninja moves" she replied. "Where is everyone?"

"Nate went out for a drink. Eliot and Hardison went out for pizza," Patrick replied.

"So they're on a job?" she confirmed.

"Yeah, something to do with Mexican drug cartels; Eliot called a while back asking for information. How 'bout you?"

"Well," she said walking over to the bench and pressing a button on the keyboard to the plasmas, "some friends and I are having a movie night but Block Buster only had one of the four movies on our list so I offered to come over and grab them off Hardison's hard drive of mega movies."

"What's on the agenda?" Shelley asked as he took a sip of orange soda, making a face of disgust at the sugary taste.

"Classic 80's; Ferris Beuller, Pretty in Pink, the Princess Bride and Breakfast Club. And I'm pretty sure there's beer in the freezer. Eliot put it in there before I left to chill it. That is, unless you _like _drinking Alec's orange soda." She pulled a thumb drive out from one of the draws and pressed a few buttons, copying over her movies of choice.

"Thanks," he replied as he grabbed a beer out of the freezer. "And the Princess Bride? Really? What about Top Gun?"

"Forget Top Gun" Bonnano protested. "What about Die Hard?"

"You kinda wish you were John McClain don't you Patrick?" she questioned and the man shrugged. "And what do you mean 'and the Princess Bride?' It's a great film!"

"It's kinda lame," Shelley stated.

"Duh? That's kinda the point."

"Who are you anyway?" he asked.

"Eliot's niece."

"Oh, you're_ Abby,"_ he said as he realised who the teenager was, just as Bonnano's phone rang.

"Yeah Eliot," he said into the device, "mhmm. You wanna take down the Mexican and Irish Mob's tonight? Gonna take about half to three quarters of an hour to set up. Yeah, I'll call you when we're in place."

"Tell him I'll be home after lunch tomorrow," Abby said.

"Did you catch that?" he said into the phone. "He says that's fine as long as you do your homework." He hung up the device. "Shelley, how do you feel about upholding some of that constitution you're married to?"

"It would be an honour," he replied quite seriously as the pair picked up their coats to leave. Abby pulled out the thumb drive and followed them.

"Have you even seen the Princess Bride?" she asked in the elevator.

"Have you seen Top Gun?" Shelley replied.

"Didn't think you army guys had time for films," Abby said smugly.

"Oh, we make time for Top Gun," he replied.

"But honestly? Have you seen the Princess Bride?" she questioned again and he shook his head.

"I saw about ten minutes of it on a plane once."

"And?"

"I was kinda distracted by the Yakuza," he stated matter of factly. Both Abby and Bonnano made a questioning face.

"Should I ask?" the detective enquired.

"You could but then I'd..."

"Have to kill me," Bonnano finished. "Got it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I'm home," Abby said as she entered their apartment.

"How was movie night?" Eliot asked as he tied up his tie, preparing for the days job.

"Fun! These girls are great. And I heard you got up to mischief last night?"

Eliot paused, worrying for a second she had found out about his liaising with 'Sister Lupe'. He didn't like to set that example for Abby and was especially conscious of it after Sophie's phone call to him several weeks earlier.

"What was it," Abby continued. "Mexican drug cartel?"

"Yeah," he replied, relieved. "All in a day's work."

"All in a day's work? You took down two established gangs. On your night off? That's totally epic!" she yelled enthusiastically. "By the way, you know your army friend Sammy?"

"Shelley," he corrected.

"I know. You know he hasn't seen the Princess Bride?"

"Neither have I."

"Seriously? How can you not have seen it? ROUS's, rhyming giants?" she questioned. "Not ringing any bells?"

"I think I saw ten minutes of it on a plane once."

"Let me guess, distracted by the Yakuza?"

"Somethin' like that."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Tara!" Sophie exclaimed gleefully as her and the rest of the team entered Nate's apartment, all having just come from tidying up from lasts night's impromptu jobs.

Tara had helped herself to a glass of red and was comfortably lounging on one of the bar stools, aimlessly flicking through some paperwork which had been left around.

Just like she had done when the team had first met her, she had made herself at home.

"I thought you were flying out to Shanghai tonight?" Sophie continued.

"Well I was," Tara replied, standing up and adjusting her very short dress, "but this whole Eliot and the kid thing got me curious and I had to see it for myself. This must be her." The grifter nodded her head towards Abby.

"I must be," Abby agreed, though she was rather confused. "And you would be?" Abby asked, looking up at Eliot.

"Tara Cole," the woman said before Eliot could reply. "I worked with this little…family here a few years back."

"Right," the teenager nodded then moved forward as she realised that she, and the others, were still standing in the doorway. She stepped forward pulling of one shoe, then took another step pulling off the other and tossed them next to the door.

"So this is actually a thing?" Tara laughed. "You actually like take care of her and do the whole parenting thing?" There was an unprecedented amount of disbelief and amusement in her voice.

"Why does everyone find this so hard to believe?" the hitter replied rhetorically, walking into the kitchen and pulling himself a beer. He ignored Tara's gestures to refill her nearly empty glass

Tara waved off Eliot's dismissal and threw back the rest of the wine. "Maybe it's because you, I don't know, are so calm and thoughtful and don't have a temper at all." The sarcasm was so evident that even Parker could pick it up. "Seriously?" she asked again. "There wasn't a parent you could dump her with?"

"Well thank goodness there wasn't," Abby replied quickly. "Because then you wouldn't be quite amused."

"Touché," Tara replied, mildly impressed as she gathered her belongings and made her way to the door. "I'll be seeing you. Eliot's parenting skills is something I _don't _want to miss." Without looking up, she gave a wave and then left.

"She seems… abrasive," Abby declared and the others nodded in agreement, except for Parker, who ran across from the kitchen to the couch where Sophie was sitting and embraced her in a rather awkward, one sided hug.

"We're so glad you came back," the thief exclaimed. Sophie smiled and strained her hand to pat Parker on the head; the only form of physical affection the thief's embrace had enabled her.

* * *

><p><strong>Question.. how do you guys feel about the altering of how things played out in an episode?<strong>

**I'm on the fence about it so I thought I'd leave it up to you. **

**Ta**


	22. Family Ties

Life was complicated. Normal teenage life was complicated; the boys who refused to ask you out even though they were sweet, handsome, kind and it was blatantly obvious that there were mutual feelings, the school where you didn't quite fit in, the awkward family situation that was difficult to explain and the awkward sensation of trying to fit was terrible. Add to that a secret life and a criminal family and you had, well, a complicated situation.

It had been a week since Abby had been involved with the job at the school and she still felt as conflicted as she did when it was running. The problem was that she had loved it; freaking loved it. She loved the conning, the logistics of how everything worked out and the fact that they had done something amazing. She had never done that before.

But, as much as she had loved it, she knew it was wrong. While she _had _loved the conning, she had hating the lying and manipulating. She had hated that she had enjoyed what Eliot really hadn't wanted for her. She hated that this might be what she wanted. She also hated that Kyle hadn't asked her out.

And with all the commotion that came along with the team's life, and the commotion that came along with school, she got very little time to think it all through with no distractions; except when she was driving.

She was like Eliot in that way, though she didn't even realise it. It was one of the rare times in their busy life they got to be alone.

So, on the fifteen minute drive from school back to Nate's she turned on some music and thought. Patiently and quietly about, well, everything. Today, however, fate had other plans.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Nuh uh. No way!" Sophie exclaimed as she and the team walked into Nate's apartment. "It didn't go according to plan because you forgot to let the stupid sheep go. It would have been fine if you'd have done that!"

"It ain't my fault if the damn sheep don't prance on command!" Hardison retorted.

"The sheep didn't _need_ to prance Hardison! I told you it was overkill!" Eliot exclaimed frustratedly.

"Please stop yelling in front of little Casper!" Parker yelled, ironically louder than everyone.

"You're not keeping the sheep Parker," Nate said in his father-like tone.

"But..."

"No buts."

"_Did you get me a sheep?" _Abby enquired over comms, driving home from school. Normally she chose to ignore the banter in her ear but this, well, this was too obscure. Even for them.

"Why do you want a sheep?" her uncle asked, utterly bewildered.

"Why wouldn't she want a sheep?" Parker answered for her.

"_Exactly!" _Abby stated.

"We live in an apartment," Eliot said matter-of-factly. "Where are you going to keep a sheep?"

"_People have pets." _

_"_Cats, dogs and fish maybe, but not sheep."

"_Can I get a cat?"_

Nate chuckled as Eliot pinched the bridge of his nose before their playful banter was interrupted by a screech and an almighty bang on the other side of the comms.

"Abby?" Eliot questioned and, after a moment of silence and no movement, the team stood up, nervous and ready to move. "Abby?" he asked again, with no reply. "Hardison, track her. Now!" There was an understandable sense of urgency and worry in his voice.

"At the intersection down the road," Hardison informed, pointing his arm furiously east.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_"_Ow_," _Abby exclaimed, pushing the inflated air bag down from her face and slowly rolling her neck. She did a quick body check; nothing felt broken, she couldn't see any blood but her head was pounding and she was certain her body would ache like hell the following morning.

She breathed quietly for a moment as she tried to gather her bearings and try and remember what happened. _It was my fault,_ she thought momentarily and her heart rate spiked. _No, no,_ she reassured as recalled the green light. _It must have been another driver,_ she concluded.

"_Abby?" _Eliot asked, snapping the teenager back into reality.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, slowly and painfully stepping out of the car to inspect the damage. A black sedan was firmly implanted into the passenger side of her, or rather Eliot's, car. She quickly began to walk over to the other vehicle when the door opened and, seeing that the driver was unharmed and speaking on his phone, she began to yell furiously.

"What the hell! That was a red light! You could have killed somebody!"

"_Abby settle down. Don't do anything stupid. We're on our way," _Eliot exclaimed, the team already out the door.

"Just get Lila to sign over Kovack and Marcus. I want them!" the man said into his cell, then hung up his phone. "Sorry, Steven Case," he said extending his hand and offering a clearly well-rehearsed smile.

"Are you kidding me?" Abby said in disbelief, ignoring the man's greeting. "You're on the phone? What type of idiot talks on the phone while driving in peak hour traffic?" she shouted, pacing around in circles.

"Are you okay?" the man asked bitterly, clearly unimpressed with Abby's use of the word idiot to describe him.

"Fine," she said as a police vehicle pulled up, an obviously rookie cop getting out of the driver's seat.

"Is everybody okay?" the officer asked, surveying the damage.

"Far as I know officer," Abby replied.

"Sir, I'm going to need a statement from you," the officer said, addressing Case. "Ma'am there's an ambulance here to check you out."

"What? I'm fine," Abby replied, slightly abrasively.

"Ma'am you have a cut on your head; you could have a concussion," the officer replied kindly.

"Fine," Abby said and walked over to the ambulance.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Five minutes later Eliot pulled up; her uncle racing out of the car before it even came to a halt.  
>"I'm fine," she said before the hitter could ask anything, pre-empting his inevitable string of concerned questions. "Just a graze," she said, gesturing to the now covered wound on her forehead. "It was just from some glass."<p>

"What happened?" Eliot asked, satisfied, for the most part, with his niece's safety.

"Asshole driver ran a red light because he was on his asshole of a cell phone and wasn't concentrating and t-barred me," she explained eloquently, jumping down from the back of the ambulance.

Eliot shot her a look, telling her to _slow down and take it easy_. Abby humoured him and did not roll her eyes.

"And you're okay?" he asked, inspecting the wound on her head while simultaneously brushing the hair off her face.

"Fine DyaDya," she replied as the officer walked over to the ambulance.

"_I had to use my own name," _she stated quickly in Italian. "_I had my licence on me. That's gonna be alright yeah?"_

_"__Its fine, Hardison'll sort everything out." _

"Yeah, sorry about your car," she said in English, realising it was never going to be able to be used again.

"I'm just glad you're okay," he said kissing her on the forehead.

"How are you feeling ma'am?" the officer asked.

"Okay I guess," she replied.

"Can I take your statement?" he asked cautiously. Abby nodded and then proceeded to answer the man's questions in great detail.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Fifteen minutes later Abby pulled her backpack, jacket and keys out of the wreckage, before saying goodbye to her, or rather Eliot's, trusty vehicle.

"Can I grab your insurance details off you miss?" the driver of the other car asked Abby pinched the bridge of her nose before laying down her bag and pulling out a pen and workbook.

"Yeah, sure," she replied and proceeded to write down her details before tearing the page out of her workbook and handing it to the man, in exchange for his own.

She scanned it briefly, to make sure all of the details were there (although it did not really matter; they were rich enough that they could pay for another car easily, it was more that Abby just wanted this idiot to pay) and then stuffed the paper in her pocket.

"Abigail Spencer," he said in disbelief.

"That's what it says," she replied and turned to walk away.

"Abigail Spencer," Case said again.

"Yes. Why?"

"You don't know who I am," he stated; it was not a question and there was disbelief and surprise in his voice.

"You're the guy who rammed my uncle's car," she smiled smugly and turned back to face him.

"Uncle's?" he snorted. "Figures."

"Should I know you?" Abby queried.

Before Case could answer, however, Eliot yelled out and stood up quickly from leaning back against his Dodge. Eliot hadn't noticed the man before but now that he had, he made his way furiously towards him.

"Hey!" the hitter yelled, pointing his finger at Case. "Stay away!"

"Eliot?" Abby asked confused.

"Abby, go wait in the car," he said, jaw clenched.

"Elio..."

"Go," he reiterated and Abby did as she was told, storming frustratedly to her uncle's car.

"I swear Eliot I had no idea!" Case pleaded, holding his hands up in pre-emptive submission.

"You know Steven, I don't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing; you not recognising your own daughter."

"She's grown," he said, partly as an explanation, partly in pure disbelief.

"You stay away," the hitter warned. "She's been through enough and she's finally settled so don't you _dare _upset that."

"What's she like?" Case asked, ignoring the threat and staring back at Abby.

"None of your damn business Case!" Eliot yelled as he turned to walk away. "You stay away! If Abby wants to have anything to do with you that's her choice and she'll find you. But you don't get to walk away and come back. So _stay_ away."

Case stood in stunned silence as Eliot walked back to his car, gesturing Abby into the passenger seat.

"Who was that?" Abby asked timidly.

She was met with silence.

"Elio..."

"That was your father," the hitter replied.

They were silent for the ride home.

* * *

><p><strong>So, Abby's father, promised (jinxcat21)<strong>

**What will her reaction be?**


	23. Father

"You're safe!" Parker yelled, giving a leaping hug to Abby as she walked through the door of Nate's apartment.

"I'm fine Parker. Just a little uh, sore," she hinted.

"Oh, right," the thief said, gently releasing her grip from the girl.

Abby smiled in thanks as Eliot stormed into the room and walked over to the fridge, pulling out a cold beer in an attempt to nurse his problems.

"What happened?" Hardison enquired, realising it couldn't have been the accident that had gotten Eliot so riled.

"I don't want to talk about it," she replied before settling down on the couch, pulling a book from her bag. Sophie looked quizzical, clearly something more than a fender bender had happened but there was something in Abby's tone of voice that said to Sophie that she really shouldn't press the girl. Something which Sophie found odd for the girl, which only caused her to be more concerned.

And so, Sophie and the rest of the team left her alone, instead pressing Eliot for more answers.

"Not for me to tell Hardison," Eliot said to the hacker, preparing the night's meal and knocking back another brew.

"Eliot," Hardison pressed. "What happened?"

"If Abby wants to talk about it, she'll talk about it," the hitter reiterated and, seeing the hacker open his mouth to ask more questions, continued. "Hardison, drop it," he warned.

The hacker took the not so subtle hint and backed off.

"Just let us know if you need anything," he offered, then walked back to his computer.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Alec?" Abby asked that evening, looking up from her book for the first time since dinner at Hardison who was carefully rummaging through files on his computer.

"'Sup?" he asked, without looking away from the screen.

"Can you, uh, look up a name for me?" she asked timidly.

"Ace, I don't think Eliot woul..."

"Please," the teenager pleaded. "I really need this."

"What's the name?"

"Steven Case," she stated and the hacker typed the name into his laptop, opened up a few files and handed it over to Abby.

"Knock yourself out."

She read over the information intensely; Steven Brian Case, 35, born in New York, raised in Oklahoma, went to Harvard on a football scholarship, played a few seasons before moving on to working for the Boston Red Sox where he eventually became their manager. He was married five years ago to Layla Cortez with one child, a three year old boy named Christopher.

"I have a brother," she muttered to herself.

She then moved onto his police records; arrested several times for underage drinking, once for a DUI and once for possession. He also had several speeding fines and had been written up numerous times for reckless driving. Go figures.

Then she looked at his financials; he earned quite a bit and spent a disproportionate amount of it on alcohol but mostly it looked clean. Mostly.  
>There were several unconventional deposits of cash into one of his accounts; odd amounts, 1043 dollars here, 1562 dollars there but, all in all, adding up to around 100,000.<p>

"I have an asshole of a father," she finally concluded, before closing up the searches and shutting the hacker's computer.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Everything alright Eliot?" Sophie asked the hitter as he sat at the kitchen bench reading while she made herself a cup of tea.

Eliot sat silently for a moment then turned the book over, readjusted his seat and looked up at Sophie. _This must be serious,_ Sophie thought.

"The guy who rammed into Abby today was her father," he said simply, but quietly, trying to make sure the others did not overhear. Sophie nearly missed pouring the hot liquid into her mug; she had not been expecting that.

"Her biological father?" she confirmed, grabbing a cloth to wipe up the water which had not made it into the cup.

"Yeah."

"I don't know much about him," she noted. "What was the situation between him and her mother?"

"Hayley got pregnant at sixteen, he was a college kid who expected a one night stand and treated it like it was one. He didn't care and he didn't want anything to do with them," he explained as Sophie could sense in his voice the massive disdain he felt towards the man.

"Has he ever met her before?"

"At her mother's funeral, he didn't even remember her name and she never who he was," Eliot explained. "Even today he didn't know who she was 'till he saw her name," he scoffed.

"Did she-"

"She didn't know until I told her," he interrupted.

"So what specifically is the issue?"

"I saw the way he looked at her; he wants in on her life."

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing," Sophie suggested, blowing on her tea and taking a tentative sip.

"The guy's a drunk and a gambling addict. It's bad enough that she's got us and Nate as role models, but him too? It ain't happening."

"That's not really your choice Eliot," Sophie said softly. "Parties, drinking, conning and dating you have an input, but her father, that's another story."

"He's not good Sophie."

"She's smart, she'll figure that out for herself," the grifter suggested. "But _she _needs to be the one to figure that out, because that'll help her figure out who she is." Eliot looked confused, to his knowledge, Abigail knew who she was. "She's a teenager; they're all figuring themselves out at this age," Sophie explained. "And she's been a little… off lately Eliot."

"I know," he agreed then turned back to his book; a clear indication that the conversation was done.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I'm going to shower and hop to bed," Abby informed her uncle almost immediately after arriving in their apartment.

"'Kay," Eliot replied, taking off his jacket and placing his keys on the counter as she quickly walked down the hall to her room. "Abby," he yelled out.

"Yeah," she replied tiredly, turning around and leaning against the wall.

"I don't like your father," he declared, though the moment he said it he realised it probably wasn't the best way to start. "But he _is _your father and if you want to have a relationship with him, that's okay. All you gotta do is say so."

Abby kicked her leg softy against the floor. "Okay," she replied softly, then turned back and made her way to the shower.

The relief she felt when she finally stepped into the shower was instantaneous, for her body at least, soothing the already forming bruise along her shoulder from the seat belt. Her mind, on the other hand, was less appeased.

She felt lost.

And the more she had learnt about her family, the more confused she became. She used to know who she was and what she wanted; everything fit. But now, as the true pieces of her life and life in general revealed themselves to her, she was less certain.

* * *

><p><strong>Response for the last chapter was amazing! Thanks friends. <strong>

**I should introduce unexpected family members more often. **

**Next, aside from the whole father/abby/discovery arc, I'm thinking the Queen's Gambit job. Any objections?**


	24. Not Blackmail, But Sophie Would Be Proud

**Sorry about the funny uploading first time 'round... that was super weird, but all fixed. Thanks floralisette for the head up =)**

**Take Two!**

* * *

><p>"Can I help you?" a fair haired receptionist asked Abigail as she waited patiently in the reception area of a looming building in the business district.<p>

She had traded her blue sweater for white shirt and had tied her hair back in order to make her look slightly older than she was. Old enough, at least for anyone not to question why she was in an office block, in the middle of a school day.

"I'm looking to speak with," she paused to cough, "Steven Case."

"I'm sorry, he doesn't take walk in's," the woman smiled, unapologetically, then turned her attention back to her work.

"I know that," Abby smiled back, insincerely. "It's quite important, that's all." She did her best to make her words sound eloquent and sophisticated. The woman sighed and rolled her eyes. "Could you… could you tell him it's Abigail Spencer," she tried. "Please," she added.

The woman, reluctantly, stood up and walked into the adjacent office. Abby brushed the hair off of her face and paced nervously. She still couldn't believe she was doing this, even though the thought had been running through her mind since she had met her father eleven days ago.

At first she had dismissed it but the more and more the notion appeared in her mind, the more she felt it was something she had to do. Not for anyone else, but for her.

"He'll see you in a moment," the woman said when she returned.

"Thankyou," Abby stated and took a seat in the waiting area but, with the nerves, she was struggling to keep still.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Any questions?" Nate asked as he stood up in front of the plasmas after explaining the job to the team. Parker's hand shot up enthusiastically into the air as she sat on top of the briefing bench, with her legs swung over the front.

"Do I get to keep the diamond?"

"Uh, possibly," the mastermind decided and was about to continue but was distracted by Eliot's phone ringing.

The hitter pulled it out and, upon checking the caller ID, his brow furrowed. The team stared at him with intrigue but, to their disappointment, he walked away into the adjoining room to answer it.

"Anyone know-" Sophie began to ask but was interrupted by Eliot storming furiously back into the room. "What's-" the grifter started but was, again, interrupted by the hitter.

"Hardison can you trace Abby's cell?" Eliot asked, walking over to stand next to Hardison and placing his clenched fists on top of the bench.

Hardison was hesitant, at first, but his curiosity was far greater.

"Um yeah she's," Hardison typed on his computer for a moment and a map of the city was brought up onto the plasmas. A few seconds later it zoomed into Abby's school, a red dot placing her in the middle of the grounds. "At school, where she should be."

"Eliot, what's-" Nate tried.

"What about her earbud?" the hitter asked, not even registering the mastermind's beginning of a question.

The hacker pressed a few buttons and a second dot appeared on the screen, flush on top of the other.

"At school," Hardison declared again. "Do you mind telling us what's going on?"

"That was the school; they said she didn't show up for class this afternoon," the hitter explained.

"What do you think happened?" Parker asked. "Do you think someone took her?"

"Dunno," he replied simply, shrugging his shoulders.

"What about her car?" Sophie suggested. "Can you track her car?"

"Yes, yes I can and it's…" there was a pause as the map moved across from the school, panning up to the business district. "Main and fifth?"

"Why would she be there?" Parker asked.

"Hardison, find out what's around there, who works there," Nate instructed.

"Sure," he agreed then took a moment to gather a list of businesses and people who worked in the area. "Oh hell," he swore when he saw a name he recognised.

"Hardison," Eliot growled threateningly.

"She may or may not have asked me to run a name last week," the hacker explained sheepishly.

"And ya did it?" Eliot's eyes widened with anger and he tossed his arms about furiously.

"Who was he?" Nate asked quickly before things got out of hand.

"Dunno, guy named Steven Case," the hacker stated, squinting to read the name off the screen. All eyes turned to Eliot, wondering who he was.

"The guy who crashed into her a few weeks ago," Eliot explained further.

"Why would she be going to see him?" Parker's question was one that was weighing on all but Sophie's mind.

"Because, he's also her father."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Despite the fact that Case knew his next appointment was Abby, he still looked surprised when he walked in. His eyes filled with a sense of shock, as though he never expected her to walk through that door.

"Abigail, what are you doing here?" he questioned, half standing up awkwardly out of his chair and sitting down again, unsure of what to do. "I didn't think-"

"I know what you're doing," the teenager quickly interrupted. Steven looked confused. "Stealing money and siphoning it into your own accounts to feed your gambling and alcohol habits and your other _stupid_ vices."

"How could you possibly know that?" The shock on his face now had change from awe-like to worry and fear.

"I'm resourceful," she replied simply, crossing her arms and swallowing uncomfortably. "You took it from the charity accounts? That money was meant to go to sick kids," she declared, without raising her voice. Instead it remained even and low, conveying a seriousness and authoritativeness she had seen Sophie display on several occasions.

"Is this about your car?" The question was so unexpected that Abby was almost caught off guard.

"You think this is about my car?" Abby sneered in response.

"It's not?" he asked unsurely. Goodness he was insufferable.

"You know the law catches up with these kinds of crimes," she stated vaguely. "And that means prison."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, you're blackmailing me?" he asked in disbelief.

"No, not blackmail," she declared, shaking her head "Just a warning. One day the police are going to come and drag you through that door and lock you away because you can't control your damn habits. And you know what's gonna happen then? It's gonna leave your son all alone, wondering what he did wrong to have his daddy leave him." A tear pricked at her eye, the first real emotion she had allowed to be seen; she brushed it away as inconspicuously as she could. "And he doesn't deserve that! No one does."

"Abigail," he said softly, reaching his hand out towards her. Abby didn't even see it, she'd turned and walked away before he could even begin to explain himself. She never even looked back.


	25. Dream Little Girl

"What's happening people?" she asked, ensuring that she was perky as she barged through Nate's apartment door; they didn't need to know what she'd done. The look on Eliot's face however was evidence that he had found out and that he wasn't happy. "Dammit."

"Mhmm," Eliot mumbled with his arms crossed. "Didn't count on the school callin' did ya?"

Actually, she had counted on it; the main reason she had left her phone and earbud in her locker was because she knew the second Eliot got a call about her missing class he'd have Hardison track her. What she hadn't counted on was them tracking the car she was driving.

"No," she replied simply.

"You wanna tell me why you skipped out on school?" Eliot asked. Of course, they all already knew why she had done what she'd done, but she (probably) didn't know that, so Eliot was letting her win back a little trust. A little.

"But we alrea-" Parker began but was interrupted by Sophie gripping her arm.

"Went to see my dad," she said simply, still standing in the middle of the room. The empty space around her was uncomfortable and she fiddled with her fingers and was twisting her leg nervously.

"You didn't have to skip out on _school _to do that Abby," Eliot stated, raising his voice ever so slightly. "You didn't have to hide it from me, I told you that! You didn't even have to ask me, you just had to tell me you wanted to meet him-"

"Alec didn't tell you what was in the file, did he?" she asked rhetorically, looking over at the hacker.

Eliot gave Hardison a death glare and the hacker did his best to shrug it off. Abby shook her head in disbelief, walked over to the bench opposite the plasmas and opened up the files on her father.

"_That's_ why I went to see him," she declared, pointing at the section of the file which implicated her father as an embezzler.

The team, squinting their eyes, took a second to read the file and a few seconds more to process the information and, as much as they had an opinion on the matter, they left the talking to Eliot.

"You skipped out on school Abby!" Eliot yelled.

"Um, hello, someone stealing from innocent children." Abby pointed back at the screen.

"Then what? Did'y go blackmail him?"

"What? No!" she yelled back.

"Then tell me what was so important that you had to skip out on school-"

"You keep getting hung up on that," she moaned.

"Had to skip out on school," Eliot tried again. "To go and see your embezzling father, not blackmail him, and not tell me?"

"I'm confused," Parker whispered to Hardison. "Is he or isn't he happy she didn't blackmail him?"

"_Is_ Parker," Eliot replied for the hacker, without turning to face her.

"We had a deal Abby, remember? We gotta be honest if this is going to work."

"I went there to tell him to stop," she declared, in a barely audible whisper.

"What?" Parker 'whispered' to Hardison.

Abby cleared her throat. "I went there to ask him to stop," she said again. "Asked, just asked him to reconsider what he was doing."

"Why?" Eliot asked softly.

"Because he has a son. Because one day the cops are going to catch up with him. And because one day that'll leave him without a father, and he's not gonna know why." The last words were barely audible as she burst into tears and collapsed on the floor.

Eliot immediately jumped forward to comfort her and nodded at the rest of the team to leave. They did so quietly, slipping out the door before Abby even noticed.

"Abby," he reassured, stroking her hair lightly.

"I just don't understand," she sobbed.

"What darlin'?"

She couldn't answer; she didn't know.

"Well, if it means anything, other than skippin' school, I'm proud of you. Your mama would be proud too."

The words soothed her slightly, but she still said nothing.

"Can you sing?" she finally asked, reverting back to her childhood ways.

Eliot pulled her closer and began to sing, just like he had done so many times when she was a child.

_"Every soul _

_comes to this earth_

_carried on angels wings_

_to human birth._

_Born of love_

_or born of hate_

_each one is heaven sent _

_to human fate._

_Dream...little girl dream_

_Dream...little boy dream_

_dream.."_

* * *

><p><strong>Aww, poor Abby all lost and confused.<strong>

**The song, btw, Time and Space by the Cinematic Orchestra**

**Honestly though, I was unsure about this chapter, so what'd you guys think?**


	26. The Queen's Gambit Job

**Once again, didn't check the running order before I published…. Ah well, I'm sure we'll all survive. **

* * *

><p>"I don't like this!" Eliot complained as they quickly gathered false ID's, technology and whatever else might be needed for the job. After Sterling had made his impromptu visit that evening, the team had been called out and were planning to take the next possible flight to the UAE.<p>

"None of us like it Eliot," Sophie replied. "But it's our job."

"Yeah but Sterling is Sterling. When has he not screwed us over?" Parker noted.

"There's a first time for everything," Nate said as he walked down the staircase, chucking his suitcase down on the already gathered pile of suitcases.

"I still don't like it. I don't trust Sterling," the hitter reiterated then paused and clenched his jaw. "Abby's coming," he stated.

"Why? She's stayed home before?" Parker enquired, without looking up as she flicked through some of the ID's on the table.

"This is Sterling. I don't trust him," he said again. "I need Abby close by so I can keep her safe." Safe from Sterling, safe from her father; safe from everything and where he could protect her. "She's coming." It wasn't a question or a request.

"Hardison put together a couple of false ID's..." Nate began and Eliot nodded at him in thanks.

"Already done man. Abby's got a whole countries worth of false ID's just waiting to be tested," the hacker informed them and Eliot looked at his watch. "Gotta be at the airport in two hours," Hardison said, reading Eliot's mind.

"I'll swing home, wake her up, get her to pack and meet you back here."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Darlin' I need you to look at that folder and memorise it," Eliot said as the team drove to the airport. He handed her a folder with a passport and various other documents explaining the back story of 'Mary Clive'. Although she wasn't actually taking part in the con, and as far as Eliot was concerned she never would again, but any travel for them involved fake ID's and backstories to match, in order to account for anything going wrong.

"No, Eliot..." she protested, worry on her face.

"It's not," he began. "It's not like last time I promise."

"What happened last time?" Parker enquired innocently.

"Last time he left and didn't come back," Abby replied, only slightly bitterly. The team was silent. "So why am I coming?"

"You sound disappointed," Parker noted.

Abby shook her head. "Just curious."

"You're coming because this job got offered to us by an Interpol agent," Eliot explained. "By the name of James Sterling," both Parker and Hardison made an involuntary face of disgust, "who none of us trust. So it's probably best if you stay close."

"Is he dangerous?"

"Not so much dangerous as," Nate said. "How did he put it? 'Complete, self-serving utter bastard'."

"And not to mention there hasn't been a single job where we haven't gotten screwed over by him," Hardison added.

"So you don't like this guy?"

"No," they said in chorus.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So what am I meant to do?" She asked as they set up the hotel room into their base.

"Watch the tournament?" Eliot offered.

"Chess? No thank you. Shopping, now shopping I could do. If only I had some mon..." Eliot handed her a credit card. "Thank you Mr Marcus Fields," she said, reading the name of the plastic. "And thank you Eliot," she said as she hugged him in thanks. "So you don't care where I go?"

"Yes, I do," he commented as he brought up a map on the computer screen, pointing to an area surrounding the hotel. "Stay in this area and keep your comms on you. Remember, outside of this hotel room I am not your uncle. We've never met."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't blow the con. And what about Sterling guy?"

Eliot looked up at Nate.

"I think its best we don't tell him," Nate decided. "Unless it's absolutely necessary," he added as an afterthought.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Dance Dance Revolution?" Abby questioned as Hardison laid out the mats in the hotel room. She'd just returned back from her mini-shopping trip several hours ago and, exhausted from the travel and terrible with jetlag, she had napped for another few. Now she was bored and this looked exciting.

"Mhm," Hardison smiled gleefully, "the treadmill of the geek world!"

"I haven't played this in ages," Abby declared, tossing her jacket on the bed, tying her hair up and kicking her shoes off. Hardison raised a hopeful eyebrow.

"You wanna-"

"Alec Hardison, I challenge you to a game of Dance Dance Revolution!" she interrupted excitedly as she jumped to her feet.

"I accept your challenge," the hacker smiled. "Choose your weapon." He directed Abby to look at the screen and pick a song. She squinted for a moment before finally selecting one.

"That one!"

"Ok Go, a fine weapon of choice m'lady," Hardison said as he cued up the song. He then turned to face the mat and hitched up the hems of his pants in serious preparation.

Abby squared up directly in front of him, stretching out her legs and arms.

"It's on," Abby smiled.

"Let the battle commence!"

Exactly three minutes later, the pair were emptying water bottles down their throats and puffing excessively.

"I am victorious!" Hardison panted exhaustedly, pointing one finger and arm into the air.

"Only because you've played that level before," Abby defended. "Mark my words, I _will_ beat you!"

"Dream on Ace, I am _the best _at Dance Dance Revolution!"

"_Hey Hardison," _Nate's voice came in over comms, "_How's the planning going?"_

'It's like he knew' Abby mouthed as she grinned.

"Yeah good, uh, good man," Hardison replied. "Just uh, testing out some of the hardware."

"_Keep me in the loop okay," _the mastermind instructed.

"Sure, will do," Hardison replied and then turned to the teenager. "Care to help out?"

"Because I have such a high level of knowledge on how to break into secure vaults," she stated sarcastically.

"Only one way to learn," Hardison offered. The teenager considered it for a minute, and then shook her head; she still wasn't sure where she wanted her life to leave, so, she decided, she would remain out of any questionable activities. For now at least.

"Actually, I think I'm gonna go for a walk," she informed him. "I've never been to Dubai before so I'm gonna try and soak it in."

"All cool."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!" the blonde apologised after she bumped into Abby, spilling her smoothie down the front of her shirt.

"It's, um, it's fine," she replied as she stood, as still as a statue, trying to figure out what to do exactly, as the purple liquid dripped down her top and onto the floor.

"Here," the girl offered as she handed Abby a towel from a nearby bench.

"Thanks," Abby replied as she wiped herself down.

"Are you here for the tournament?"

"No," Abby snickered. "No, chess is not my game. Are you?"

"I'm competing," she replied. "Olivia."

"Mary," Abby offered as she wiped up the last of the drink. "So you'd be one of those child geniuses then?"

"Apparently," she smirked. "So what's your game?"

"Well, I don't like to brag, but I excel at Go Fish," she joked and was met with a blank stare of confusion from the other teenager. "Poker," she tried again, "you have to be in my family."

"Same for me, I suppose; chess is a family pass time."

"Right," Abby said, drawing the connection with the teenager and the team's mark. "Your dad's the hotel guy."

"Hmm," she snorted. "My step dad; and he can't play chess for dirt, though he thinks he can," she declared as her body guard shifty uncomfortably beside her. "My real dad on the other hand, he's much better, though his reputation is less than sterling." There was a sly grin on her face.

"Cool," Abby replied, though she wasn't entirely sure what to make of her last comment.

"I've gotta go, I have a tournament," Olivia stated apologetically as he guards began to usher her along. "It was nice meeting you," she said, already several feet away and turning her head back to face Abby.

"You too," Abby smiled politely. She watched momentarily as the girl was marched away, then turned in the opposite direction and pulled her com out of her pocket.

* * *

><p><strong>This chapter (and the next two) were impossible to write. I promise you I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that I rewrote them 12 times, but, I'm really happy with the results. <strong>

**So please, honest opinions are welcome**


	27. Poisoned Pawn

**I should mention that if you haven't seen the Queen's Gambit, this may feel a little jumpy. **

**If you don't have access to it, you can read the transcript at whendarknessfalls (or just google leverage transcript)**

**Also, I own nothing... sad but true. **

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_You too," Abby smiled politely. She watched momentarily as the girl was marched away, then turned in the opposite direction and pulled her com out of her pocket. _

"_Now all we need to do is break into the vault, and steal the weight," _she heard Parker conclude as she placed the device in her ear.

"Uh, guys," Abby interrupted.

"_Hmm?" _Nate questioned.

"I, think, uh," she began then took a slight pause to collect her words. "You know that girl Olivia?"

"_What about her?" _Eliot asked, minutely concerned she was getting involved.

"I think she's related to Sterling," she informed them. Back in the main event hall, Nate paused his walking and pondered for a moment.

…

_"__Step Daughter"_

_…_

That's what Sterling had corrected, they certainly had similar features, and it would make sense as to why Sterling was so motivated with this case.

_"__You're sure?" _the mastermind questioned.

Despite the fact she knew they couldn't see her, she nodded. "Mhm. She said something about her father having a less than sterling reputation. That kinda sounds like him, plus, I don't think that's a thing."

"_Okay, he must be trying to get her back," _Nate said matter of factly. "Eliot, stay close to Sterling, but don't let him know."

"_Why wouldn't he just tell us? And why don't we just tell him that we know?" _Parker enquired.

"_For the same reason Eliot didn't tell us and for the same reason we didn't tell Eliot that we knew," _the mastermind replied.

"_What reason is that again?" _the thief asked.

"_Trust, Parker," _Sophie reminded her. Back in the car Eliot shook his head.

He had still hated that they hadn't told him that they knew. Sure, trust was important, but it would have made everything darned less complicated if they'd just let him know. But he let it slide; until Nate's plan's started to go haywire (or unless it was unbelievably stupid), he found it best to trust Nate's plan. Mostly.

"_Oh, right. Trust."_

_"__Good job Abby," _Nate praised as an afterthought. "_Eliot, make sure the Kazakhstani's don't come back here. Keep an eye on them."_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Look on the bright side," Sterling exclaimed, passing Eliot some coffee. "I think this'll give us an opportunity to spend some real quality time together, Spencer."

"_Oh and Eliot," _Nate began, Sterling's unique demeanour reminding him of something important he had to tell Eliot. _"Try not to kill Sterling; we may need him later." _

"I can't promise that!" Eliot exclaimed and Abby burst out laughing.

"What was that?" Sterling asked; Eliot just rolled his eyes, stared down the coffee and took a large sip.

He knew there was something wrong instantly and, out of frustration, his hands tightened, forming fists just waiting to be reunited with Sterling's face.

Sterling had drugged him. He was desperate, he had drugged him and Eliot was furious but, it was already too late.

The taste of the drug had been strong and intensely bitter. Sterling was, as much as Eliot hated to admit it, smart, so he'd probably gone overboard with the dosage meaning there was enough in there to knock him out for approximately a few hours.

In that one sip? Judging on the intensity and experience, Eliot guessed he'd be out for a good twenty minutes.

How long until the drug kicked in, he wasn't sure. What he was sure about was that, no matter what his intentions, Sterling was going to get a painful punch to the face when he woke up.

And, until then, he was going to annoy the hell out of him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Parker, are you in position?"

"_In position," _the thief huffed.

"Okay, start your clock when I start mine, I can guarantee you five minutes, hopefully more," he instructed as he walked purposefully towards the match. "Abby, I want you to stay on Olivia, okay?" he continued, ignoring Parker's complaining in his ear.

"Okay," Abby, standing next to Sophie, nodded and waited for a protest from Eliot; curiously, there was none.

Hardison noticed the discrepancy too and quickly checked the hitter's comm; it was offline.

"_Nate, when's the last time you checked in with Eliot?" _he questioned.

"Uh, why?" he asked, glancing quickly and concernedly over at Abby.

"_Because his com dropped off the grid about nine minutes ago,"_ the hacker informed. "_No pings, no system statuses, no nothing."_

"Possible causes?"

"_Lots of things; damage, water-"_

"If something went wrong though we would have heard it, right?" Abby questioned, hope and worry in her voice.

Hardison sighed. _"I muted his comms because of all the yammering with Sterling," _he confessed.

"What about Sterling?" Nate asked as the lights in the room began to dim.

"_With Eliot, as of nine minutes ago." _

"Okay, so, whatever he's got planned he's putting in motion now," he concluded. "Hardison and Parker, stick to the plan. Abby, odds are things are going to get interesting so stick on Olivia _only if it is safe to do so." _He was sure to emphasise those last instructions.

"Okay," she agreed quietly.

"And Abby," Nate added as he walked towards the table. "Sterling may be a pain and a bastard and a myriad of other things, but _he's not dangerous_. Eliot is fine. Get it?"

"Got it."

"Good," Nate smiled. "Okay Parker, get ready."

* * *

><p><strong>Don't think this is my best work but... oh well. <strong>

**And, mysticaljayne, many thanks for the honest review =)**


	28. Grand Master Draw

**Again, a bit jumpy, but otherwise I'd have to rewrite the ****_whole _****con and that would just be too long. Hope you can all follow okay.**

* * *

><p>"Do things always go this haywire?" Abby questioned as the alarm rang out. Already, Sophie had been arrested by security, Eliot was AWOL and Parker had lost her exit.<p>

"_You'd be surprised," _Sophie replied, pointlessly pacing in the small room she'd been locked in.

"Abby are you following Olivia?" Nate questioned.

"_As best as I can," _the teenager replied, jogging briskly to keep up with the men with legs twice the length of hers.

"Parker?" he then asked, wondering how much the thief had accomplished.

"_Nope," _was the disappointing reply.

"Okay well, Kazakhstani's coming your way and I can only stall for so long," Nate stated, picking up his jacket, adjusting his collar and making for the exit. "You gotta be moving."

"_Nate, what's the priority here?" _Sophie enquired.

He didn't even have to think; the contingencies he had already put in place would deal with the Kazakhstani's. "Olivia," he declared as the mark and his body guards appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, right behind him.

"_You're going to have to stall Robert then," _she reminded him.

Nate agreed and, without any displeasure, through a swift punch to the mark's face. He realised he didn't quite think his actions though when the man's bodyguards raised their guns at him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She followed them as swiftly as she could and was almost shocked to see that Olivia's step-father chose to just lock her in the room.

"Bastard," Abby muttered as she moved to open the door and greet the girl and see if she couldn't do, well, something.

Before she could turn the handle, however, the door opened to reveal Sterling, gently pulling his daughter along behind him.

"Get out of my way," he said, trying to push past him. Abby wouldn't let him and moved to block his path.

"Where's Eliot?" she questioned forcefully.

"I've got no idea what you're talking about," he exclaimed then successfully moved past her and made his way outside.

"Where _the hell _is Eliot?" she questioned moving alongside them

"Didn't I meet you earlier?" Olivia asked, carefully eyeing of the girl as they paused to cross the drive.

"Yeah," she replied quickly, but didn't pay her much attention. "Where's Eliot?" she asked, this time pushing the man slightly to the side, forcing him to stop and give her the attention she was trying to command.

"Who on _earth _are you!?" he shouted and Abby opened her mouth to yell but was interrupted by Eliot over coms. Distracted by his address, she looked away.

"_Abby, where are you?" _he questioned, his voice husky and drowsy as he ran towards where Sophie was being kept.

"Outside with…" she looked back up; Sterling and Olivia were gone, now both entering their car. Nate followed so she turned her attention back to her uncle. "Outside," she stated again. "Nate's gone after Sterling," she relayed as Nate, with a slight smile on his face, sped off in the red Ferrari.

"_Gone after Sterling?" _the hitter confirmed.

"_Yes, going after Sterling," _Nate replied. "_But otherwise we're done. Hardison meet Eliot on the ground floor, free Sophie; everyone to the extraction point," _Nate instructed.

"_Abby, go grab the stupid van and meet us out front," _Eliot huffed as he punched another terrorist.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Eliot can I ask you something?" Nate asked as he poured himself some whisky from behind the empty bar. Eliot stood on the opposite side of the bench holding a chilled beer in his hand.

The rest of the job had gone, comparatively smoothly; they'd made it out of Duvai without being running into any more trouble, Sterling had been reunited with his daughter and, last they'd heard had relocated to the west coast. Additionally, Nate's secret plan had brought down the terrorists. But there was still something weighing on Nate's mind.

"What?" Eliot said, his voice husky. He coughed, then took a sip of the draught to sooth it.

"You knew that Sterling drugged you," Nate stated; it was not, in any way, a question.

"Yes."

"Why is that?" There was slight disapproval in the man's voice as he twisted his glass between his hands.

"Can I ask you one?" he asked in response, but did not wait for a reply. "You had it planned all along that we were never gonna steal that weight; you always knew you were just going just make it so it blew the whole damn thing up. But cha still didn't tell us.

"Then, you go after Sterling, even though, everyone had got what they needed, Sterling and his daughter included."

"You're telling me you would have let him go?"

"That's not what I'm saying at all, and you know it." Still holding his beer, he pointed his index finger at Nate "You can't expect us to run every decision and all of our actions by you, no matter how big they are, when you're not willin' to do the same."

Nate wasn't completely satisfied, but what the hitter said was true so he nodded in respect. Plus, if Nate expected, or pushed, for an answer from Eliot, he would expect (demand) on in return and that was something that the mastermind wasn't good at. "Fair enough," was Nate's simple reply and he made his way round the bar back to the table.

"Where's Abby?" Eliot asked, following Nate and seeing his niece's empty seat.

"Phone call," Sophie informed him, placing her hand to her ear in description. Eliot nodded.

"And to answer your earlier question Nate, I ain't lettin' him slide," Eliot commented.

"Guys, a father reunited with his daughter. Take the win," Nate stated.

"Win?" Sophie asked in disbelief. "Sterling beat us, again."

"This time," Nate grinned as the bells to the bar door rung.

All head's turned to find Sterling and Olivia.

"Nate," the man greeted. "Eliot," he continued with smugness in his voice.

"What are you doing here?" Nate asked in response, turning back to the others at the table.

"I came to say thankyou," he said, rare sincerity in his voice.

"You?" Nate turned back to face the man and he nodded.

"As… unusual as it may be, yes."

"Thankyou Mister Ford," Olivia added with a smile on her face.

"My pleasure," Nate nodded to Olivia, but ignored Sterling's gesture; more out of habit then rudeness.

"That really was a good game of chess you know? We should…" she was going to suggest they play another game but trailed off as Abby entered from the back room.

"Oh," Abby exclaimed in surprise.

"You?" Olivia asked.

"You!" Sterling yelled simultaneously, any sort of sincerity or glimpse of kindness lost from his tone of voice.

"Sorry," she apologised, turning to Eliot.

Sterling mumbled a few nonsensical syllables for several moments, his eyes looking upwards, his fingers twirling as he calculated.

"Spencer? Has a kid?" he finally asked in disbelief.

"Niece," the Leverage crew corrected simultaneously. Sterling still looked shocked.

"How long has this been… niece, as in niece?" he continued and Eliot stared at him with intense anger.

Abby rolled her eyes and walked up to Olivia.

"Abby," she introduced, holding out her hand in greeting.

"Olivia," she greeted in response.

"Is he going to be blabbering like that for long?"

Olivia looked past Abby's shoulder at her father. "Probably," she declared, looking back.

"Drink?" Abby questioned walking behind the bar and handing the girl a cola. Olivia smiled and sat on the stool on the other side of the bar.

"No!" Parker exclaimed. "No, no, no. They can't be friends. If they're friends...if they're friends that means more Sterling."

"It's cool babygirl, it's cool," Hardison reassured as Eliot stood up and walked towards Sterling.

"You use her to get to me, or hurt her in anyway, I will break, every, bone, in your body," Eliot threatened softly.

"Same goes for you," he hissed. "You don't think they're actually going to be friends do you?" Sterling then asked, turning to face the two girls who were now laughing hysterically.

Apparently yes.

"Oh this isn't good," Sterling muttered.

"Hey Dad!" Olivia said happily, jumping off her seat and running closer to her father. Abby did the same, running around the bar to stand next to Eliot. "Can we go to a movie?"

"Movie?" Sterling asked in disbelief.

"I was meant to go with a friend but they cancelled," Abby stated by way of explanation. "I already bought the tickets."

"Was this Kyle that cancelled?" Eliot queried. Abby said nothing but he knew that was a yes; it was the third time he'd done that in a month.

"Please!" Olivia pleaded, hanging on to her father's crossed arms.

"Fine!" he conceded.

"No!" Parker despaired from the table.

"Parker!" Sophie scalded.

"Come straight back," Eliot instructed.

"Yay!" Abby shouted in joy. "Can I take your car?"

"My car?" he asked in disbelief. "Absolutely not. You can take Hardison's."

"Dammit Eliot!" he swore, pulling the keys out of his pocket. Abby reached over and grabbed them before kissing her uncle on the cheek in thanks.

"Thanks DyaDya," she said then ran enthusiastically out the door with Olivia.

There was a moment of awkward silence and stillness in the room.

"Well, I'm not staying here," Sterling exclaimed. He walked over to Nate and handed him a USB drive. "Does this mean we're even?" he questioned. In response Nate fake stifled a laugh.

Sterling nodded (he was disappointed, but not surprised) and shifted about for a moment before he made his way to the door. "I'll be back."

"This is so not good," Parker pouted.

**Good thing or no?**

**I thought it'd be fun; the main reason I didn't give up on the last two chapters after attempt number 11- I wanted Abby to have a friend in 'their world'**

**As always, many thanks for your reviews**


	29. Just One Drink

It had been a week and a half since Abby had gone to see her father, returned home and burst into tears on Nate's apartment floor and nothing more had really been said about it. Everyone had been a little kinder and a little more cautious; Sophie had given sympathetic stares and reassuring cups of tea but had seen in Abigail's eyes that she was not to ask. No one had asked, not even Parker.

The only person who had said anything about it was Eliot, who had simply informed Abby that if she wanted to talk, he was here. But, otherwise and thankfully, everyone had left her alone because what she wanted, needed, was to be distracted. Originally, Dubai had provided for an excellent distraction, but then they'd come home and everything had caught up with her again.

So, tonight, the perfect opportunity had been presented to her to get her mind of things.

"Please, please, please, please, pleaaase!" Abigail begged as she followed her uncle around the bar the next while he brought empty glasses back to the bar.

"I already said no," Eliot replied.

"It's just one party! Kyle will be there, Stacey will be there; nothing is going to happen."

"Telling me your boyfriend is going to be there is not a great start," he said, reaching over the bar and grabbing a beer.

"Kyle is _not _my boyfriend," she sighed. "And I've never asked for anything like this before; you have to let me grow up eventually."

"No. There is no way I'm letting you go to this party," he reiterated, walking back to their booth, waiting for the rest of the team to join them.

"Why?"

_So many reasons,_ he thought to himself. "Because there's going to be alcohol," he opted for, "teenage boys, drugs probably and I've seen enough to know what goes on at these parties so, no."

Abby froze momentarily as she crossed her arms, giving him one of those

"Why don't you trust me?"

"I trust you," he began. "Who I don't trust are the other drunk teenagers who don't think about consequences."

At that moment Sophie, Nate and the rest of the team walked down from the apartment.

"Will you all _please _talk to him," Abby exclaimed at the others.

"Talk about what?" Parker enquired, sliding into one of the booths.

"There's a party tonight and I _really _want to go but Eliot won't let me," the teenager exclaimed.

"Sorry Ace, I agree with Eliot on this one," Hardison stated, sitting next to the hitter. The man had continued with his overprotective brotherly attitude and, although he'd never really gone to one of these parties, he knew it was a bad idea.

"Thank you Hardison," Eliot stated.

"Traitor," Abby hissed playfully.

"Eliot its one party," Sophie said softly, sitting opposite the hitter and the hacker. "It's good for her to _actually _get out there."

"Thanks…" Abby began but then paused. "What do you mean _'actually'_?"

"You know what kid," Nate whispered to Abby. "She's on your side; I'd drop it."

"She's sixteen!" Eliot exclaimed.

"Exactly," Sophie retorted. "You're honestly going to tell me that you weren't going to parties when you were her age?"

"Not really," Eliot replied and he was met with a surprised look from the rest of the Leverage crew. "I was too busy looking after my sick mother and my siblings!" he said through gritted teeth and he was met with several moments of silence.

The statement was only mostly true, there were several occasions where he had snuck out with Aimee to attend a local party. His experiences at which only consolidated his opinion that she _shouldn't _go.

"Eliot I'll be really careful I promise," Abby said softly. "I'll have my comms on me and I'll call you if I need anything."

"How are you going to get there?" he conceded and Abby grinned, knowing she had won. "Because you totalled my car."

"Stacey's going to drive us…"

"How long has Stacey had her licence?" he grilled.

"Six months and she's never had an accident," Abby replied.

"You can go on the condition that you _don't _drink and that I pick you up at 12 sharp," he said, pointing his finger at her sternly.

"But…"

"No buts. That's the deal, take it or leave it," he offered.

"Deal."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Eliot she's fine," Sophie said as she flicked through files, preparing for their next job. Eliot too was sitting at the couch, pointlessly flicking through files, his leg tapping incessantly out of nervousness. "It's only 10:30," she reminded.

"I don't understand the big deal?" Parker said, fiddling with one of her rigs from the other side of the room. "It's a party. We crash parties all the time; they have yummy food, lapsed security…"

"Not the same sort of party Parker," Eliot stated.

"Oooh. Is this the sort of party where teenagers have too much booze and end up pregnant or dead in a pile up?"  
>Sophie put her hand to her face and sighed while Eliot's jaw clenched ever so tighter.<p>

"No one," began Nate, flicking through client files. "Is getting killed or pregnant. Abby is smart and knows to stay out of trouble; she will be fine. Now, can we concentrate on this job please?"

"Yeah sure," Hardison agreed then clicked back on the browser and brought the case file back up on the screen.

"You keeping tabs on Abby's father?" Eliot asked when he saw that it wasn't their client file that was brought up on the screen but in fact an extensive file on Steven complete with real time tracking of his financials.

Hardison looked up and gave a worried look upon realising his mistake. "What? No, I, uh, well what happened, uh," he stammered. "Please don't hit me?" he finally begged.

"What are his financials like?" Eliot asked and Nate snickered at the hacker's comment.

Hardison now looked surprised but did not question it. "No change, good or bad," he confessed. "What do you want to do about it?"

"Nothing," he stated. "For now."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

On the other side of the city, Abigail stood awkwardly in the corner of the room with Kyle and Stacey, watching the rest of their year level drink themselves into a drunken stupor rivalled only by Nate.

"Remind me why we came again?" Abby yelled to her friends, who were struggling to hear her over the loud, thumping music.

"Come on AJ," Stacey exclaimed. "These kinds of parties are no fun if you don't drink."

Abby shook her head as Stacey grabbed a drink off a nearby teenager

"Do you want to dance?" the teenager boy asked Stacey eagerly, clearly far from sober. Stacey shrugged her shoulders and grabbed his hand, following him onto the dance floor.

"This is so not fun," Kyle exclaimed.

"Pretty much," Abby replied.

"Do you want to maybe have one drink?" he asked cautiously.

"What are you kidding?" Abby asked in apparent disbelief. Though, truthfully, the thought had occurred to her. "Your dad would probably arrest us!"

"Not to mention your uncle would probably kill us!" he laughed.

"No, don't be ridiculous," she said smiling. "He wouldn't lay a hand on me! You, on the other hand; you he'd probably kill."

"Just one drink?" he asked again.

"I dunno Kyle," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest and holding her forearm.

Then he gave her his big puppy dog eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>Ooooooooooh, someone's in trouble now.<strong>

**Part one of an EXTREMELY delayed request for Theshoegirl. **

**I wrote this to go in like, chapter 5 or 6, but kept getting pushed back. But, regardless, I hope you all like it. **


	30. Busted

**Part 2/3 of a request for Theshoegirl**

* * *

><p>Eliot was fetching his keys and jacket to leave when the doorbell to his apartment rang; that was wrong. Their apartment had some of the best security in town and for someone to just waltz up, was bad news.<p>

He grabbed the baseball bat he kept next to the door and, gripping it firmly, swung the door wide open. His strong grip released on the weapon when he saw Bonnano standing next to a clearly un-sober Abigail; the detective looked exhausted.

"What?" he questioned angrily as Abby pushed her way past her uncle and made her way into the living room. "Happened?" Eliot finished.

"Don't know," the detective replied. "They weren't extremely talkative in the car."

"They?" Fury was mounting inside of Eliot.

"Yeah; her and Kyle."

"How?" It was the only word he could stumble out of his mouth.

"Heard an address over the police radio as where Kyle was tonight; the party was out of control but uniforms were already there cleaning up. I grabbed Kyle and Abby before her name, and yours, could be flagged," the detective explained.

"Thanks," the hitter said as he looked back at his niece.

"I should go," Bonnano declared. "I have a teenage son to deal with."

"How did you get up here?" Eliot questioned as the detective began to walk away.

"Flashed my badge at security, why?"

"No reason," Eliot replied, shaking his head, though truthfully, the hitter and soldier inside of him wanted to know all of the holes in security so he could fix them. But that was something for another time.

He closed the door and turned his attention back to Abigail, who was fiddling with the media dock kept in the dining area. Her hair was a mess, her eye makeup was smudged and her dress was askew. Eliot wasn't sure he wanted to ask what happened at the party.

"What are you doing?" Eliot questioned, his voice low and steady with disappointment.

"Trying to get music," Abby explained, her words slurred. "I want to dance!" There was a click as the radio switched on. "Ha!" the teenager exclaimed in success.

Her success, however, was short lived as Eliot walked over and switched it off.

"Hey, I was listesesesenening to that," she garbled.

"What were you thinking Abby?" he finally yelled.

"It's not a big deal," she replied as she pulled off her shoes and left them slain across the living room floor.

"How much did you drink?" he pressed.

"Not, not, not, not much, just… eleven drinks," she confessed. "All of my fingers plus two," she added perkily as she held three fingers up high in the sky.

"Abby!" he scolded. The teenager ignored him and stumbled over towards the kitchen. "What are you doing?" he asked as she flicked through cupboards and drawers.

"I'm hungry," she exclaimed then paused and clutched her stomach; the queasiness on her face was hard to miss. "I think I'm gonna…" she began, but ran off to the bathroom before she could finish.

Eliot stood for a moment before he followed and held her long her back as she emptied her stomach contents into the bowl. When she had finally finished, she slumped exhausted onto the bathroom floor as Eliot took a wash cloth from the basin and handed it to her to clean around her mouth; she did so drearily then tossed the cloth onto the floor.

Then, Eliot picked her up, scooping her in his arms like the child she had so clearly shown she was tonight, and carried her to her bed.

"Are you gonna yell at me now?" the teenager mumbled as he tucked her under the covers.

"Nah, I'll do that tomorrow, when you're sober enough to process what I'm saying," he replied, then began to exit the room.

"Why doesn't he care enough to go after me?" he heard the girl sob from her bed and, silently he wondered whether it was Kyle or her father she was referring to.

Eliot turned back to comfort and question her but she was already passed out cold, so he turned back to exit, rubbing his face unsurely. This was way out of his area of expertise.

Way, way out.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Abby awoke the next morning her head was pounding, the ache amplified by an uncomfortable ringing in her right ear.

That and the sound of Eliot's weights clanging at perfectly timed intervals down the hall. Normally he waited until she was awake to undertake any noisy activities but, she suspected, that this was all going to be part of her punishment.

She moaned and considered getting out of bed, out of her worn clothes and into a nice hot shower, but the energy to do so just wasn't there.

Instead, she laid uncomfortably on her bed, her mind playing through the stupid mistakes she'd made the night before.

_"__It'll be fun Abby," Kyle had declared excitedly, without any hesitation in his voice or his actions as he had reached for two nearby shots of goodness knows what. _

_Abby, unlike her friend, had hesitated. She had licked her lips in uncertainty and shifted her weight uncomfortably. Then she had looked at the room around her, her friend beside her and, in a moment of self-loathing, rebellious teenagery, she grabbed the shot out of his hand. _

_"__To…" she had begun, raising the plastic cup to toast, but trailed off, unsure of exactly what to celebrate. _

_"__To being adventurous," Kyle had inputted, smiling and tapping his glass to hers. Then, in one simultaneous and fluid movement, both had skulled back the burning liquid in one big gulp. _

In her bed, Abby rolled over from her back onto her side, moving her pillow with her for comfort, in some sort of attempt to not think about last night. As though moving positions would somehow also move her mind from its current preoccupation.

_Four or five drinks in, she had begun to realise the stupidity of her decision. Mostly it came from the realisation that Eliot would be picking her up and would see her in this state, partially because she'd gone back on her word and partially because this wasn't her at all. _

_So, to counteract the feelings of grief and guilt, she had done what Nate often did and drunk more. And more, until she was dancing with Kyle in what was meant to be the living room of the house but had now been turned into a dance floor, her hands draped comfortably on his shoulders. _

_"__Hi," she had greeted comfortably, her speaking faculties not yet impaired. _

_"__Hey," he had smiled back, his hands placed tentatively on her waist. "You know the other week, when you skipped out on class?" he had asked, yelling over the music. _

_"__Yeah!"_

_"__Where did you go?" His curiosity had been honest. _

_"__Oh, I went to see my father," she had replied, yelling into his ear. Under any normal (or sober) circumstance, she wouldn't have told him but, although her speech mightn't've been impaired, her filter was. _

_"__Your father? I thought-"_

_"__Yeah, he crashed into my car and is embezzling money from his company's charity," she had laughed awkwardly, the alcohol now messing with her emotions. "Oh, and, its apparent by him _not calling, _and _not _changing anything, that he doesn't care about anyone, not even his own kid."_

_"__That sucks," Kyle had declared, grabbing another shot and chasing it with another beer. _

_"__It does suck!" Abby had agreed. "And the worst part is, I don't even know why he doesn't want me!"_

_"__You should call him," Kyle had slurred; he'd drunk almost twice as much as Abby had. _

Frustrated with herself, Abby quickly sat up and ran her hands through her hair before taking a big, long breath. Gosh, she had been so stupid.

_They had been dancing together for a while now, their bodies drawing closer and closer with each song, and they had moved to the back garden. Kyle meanwhile had either been growing more confident or (more likely) increasingly drunk, and he had slipped his hands lower down Abby's back. _

_She had pulled away. _

_"__Are you ever going to ask me out?" she had asked, putting her hands out to steady her unbalancing body. _

_Kyle had shrugged. "This doesn't count?" He had asked, trying to pull her back towards him._

_"__What do you think?" she had asked in disbelief before pushing him away and running quickly back inside to devour more alcohol. _

_Bonnano had arrived an hour later, but, other than those three small snippets, the night had been a blur. Part of her was happy that that was the case._

In frustration with herself she dramatically pulled off her covers just as Eliot knocked on her door; the sound made her head hurt worse.

"We're leaving in twenty minutes," he declared and, even though his voice was muffled, his disappointment and anger was still transparently apparent.

Abby did as she was instructed, grabbing some fresh clothes out of her wardrobe and jumping into her shower, hoping that the hot water would ease her headache, wash away the smell of liquor still lingering on her body and clothes and, with it, the stupidity of the night before.

* * *

><p><strong>I don't really have much to say here... other than your reviews are continually amazing!<strong>


	31. The Universe Implores You

Abby stood with her head tucked in the crook of her arm, which lay slain across the kitchen bench; her body and head too tired to even consider moving from where she had settled herself ten minutes ago.

"How was the party?" Parker asked enthusiastically as she poured herself a bowl of cereal.

"Too loud, Parker," Abby moaned, the noise causing her head to throb harder than it already was.

"Parties can be like that," the thief replied innocently.

"No, I mean you, right now, too loud," she clarified, finally mustering the energy to stand up straight. Parker gave her a questioning look.

"She's hung over Parker," Eliot supplied, in a gruff tone of voice from the other side of the room.

"Hung over? Like from," she questioned then proceeded to take a swig out of an imaginary bottle. The silence she received answered her question. "Oooh."

"I don't know why she's here," Sophie stated, walking down the stairs from Nate's room; they'd really forgone the whole 'try and pretend we're not together' thing. "She should be home on the couch eating Mac and Cheese and watching Gilmore Girls. That's how you get over a hang over," she declared as she made it to the bottom of the stairs. She took a moment to clip on her earring s and fix up her hair before she continued. "You don't get over a hangover by hanging out here and working in a bar. _Trust me."_

"No Sophie, she doesn't get coddled for doing the wrong thing," Eliot protested. "She disobeyed me, _eleven times."_

"I'm right here," Abby murmured, not entirely happy at her uncle pretending she wasn't there and couldn't hear every word she was saying. Eliot either didn't hear, or chose to ignore the comment and continued.

"She has to do her chores, as normal. Help Cora out, as normal, because she shouldn't have done it," he declared.

"Eleven drinks?" Sophie confirmed. "That's a bloody lot!"

"I know," Eliot replied, the anger in his voice now accompanied by disappointment. "Now, Abby can you please go help Cora in the bar with inventory?" He said, turning to Abby and, even though it was phrased as a question, it wasn't one.

"Yes sir," she said mockingly and then lazily left the room. After she had left Sophie stood for a moment before turning to follow the teenager.

"Sophie," Eliot warned.

"Oh, you don't scare me," Sophie quipped. "I'm just going to see if she's alright."

Eliot sighed and let the grifter walk out the door. He then stood silent for a moment before moving back to the bench in front of the plasmas as Nate walked down the stairs.

"You think this is about her father?" the mastermind asked, walking into the kitchen and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Think it's about alotta things," he replied, flicking over a page in his file.

"She will figure it out though," he reassured the hitter as he walked out of the kitchen and down to the briefing bench. "All teenager's go through this," he tried to console the man and ensure him that it wasn't just because of their… questionable background and abnormal circumstances that she had acted out but rather because she was normal.

"Yeah, her mother did and got pregnant," he retorted and a tense, rigid silence ensued.

"You know Sophie and the others already have a plan with dealing with her father," Nate eventually stated, shifting the tone of the conversation to something a little more light-hearted.

Eliot snorted a laugh.

"I was thinking maybe of just gettin' away for a couple of days instead."

"Still," Nate offered and the mastermind couldn't help notice that the hitter didn't disagree.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Please don't lecture me Soph," Abby moaned when she saw the grifter entering the bar. "You know I'm going to get that from him later."

"He hasn't talked to you yet?" Sophie questioned as she sat down at the bar next to Abby. The grifter grabbed a pile of napkins off of the bar and began stuffing them, alongside the teenager into their housings.

The teenager was silent for a moment

"No," she shook her head, "he told me to get up and get dressed and hasn't said two words to me since." She turned to grab some more napkins, clearly a little upset. "He's never been this angry at me before." Her voice was quiet, timid and evidently exhausted.

"I think that's to be expected," Sophie replied softly, much to the teenager's surprise. "Abby you're sixteen, now I understand that your friends are going to drink and you probably will too but…" she trailed off, trying to find the words to express what she really meant.

'He worries enough about you as it is with his job, he doesn't need anything else'- No, that was too passive aggressive.

'This isn't really like you, you're too smart for this'- No, just no. No teenager needed to be called stupid.

'You don't want to turn out like Nate do you?'- she dismissed that one almost immediately.

Abby had stopped stacking napkins and was now fiddling nervously with her fingers. "Just make good choices sweetheart," Sophie decided upon and the teenager snorted a little bit with laughter at the clichéd advice.  
>But it was all the advice Sophie, at this particular point in time, was willing to give; lecturing or disciplining the girl wasn't her place. Her place was to be there for her, not criticise her and be someone she could always talk to.<p>

"You didn't do anything, umm, you might regret did you?"

"I didn't have sex Sophie, if that's what you mean," Abby said quickly and the grifter did nothing to hide the sigh of relief she let out. At least not as much as she could remember. She certainly hadn't slept with Kyle, but there was something nagging at the back of her mind; she'd done something stupid, she was sure of it, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"He didn't even kiss me," she finally confessed more quietly, turning back to her conversation with the grifter.

"Well, boys can be impeccably frustrating," she pushed her hair back behind her ear, "and you're alright?"

Abby shrugged. "I'll be fine, just as long as Eliot actually says something to me. This waiting is just killing me."

"I believe that's the point."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eliot went the rest of the day without saying anything significant to Abby; part of him was brooding in anger, the other part knew that the anxiousness of waiting on her part would get her to really think about what she'd done.

The car ride back to their apartment had been eerily silent and when they finally made it inside, flinging off her jacket, Abby made straight for her room.

"Abby," Eliot said before she could make it and the teenager halted in her steps. "Can we talk please?"

Abby felt a moment of relief, and then dread at what was coming. She turned around and leant against the nearest wall, eyes staring at the ground, unwilling to make eye contact.

"What were you thinking Abby?" Eliot queried, crossing his arms angrily.

"It was just a couple of drinks," she replied nonchalantly.

"No, a couple of drinks doesn't get you that blind drunk!"

"It's not a big deal," she shrugged, standing up from against the wall and walking into the living room, mostly so she didn't have to face him.

"Yes, it is a big deal," he yelled. "You can't, you can't just do things like this Abby. It's not okay!"

"I..I…"

"Do you wanna tell me why it's not okay or should I?" he questioned rhetorically, not even waiting for her to finish stammering. "You're underage, it damages brain cells. People, guys, _will _try and take advantage of you when you're drunk. What if you let slip what we really do?" He listed the things off on his fingers as he went along. "What if, god forbid, someone from my past saw you and you couldn't protect yourself…"

"That's not going to happen."

"You don't know that and let me finish. What if you'd gotten arrested? You'd have a record. Our names, the team's names, could have been flagged. Did you think about how you could've put them in danger? And, with the amount of alcoholics on your mother _and_ father's side of the family, you may not have the capacity to experiment with drinking! You went back on your word Abby!"

"Please stop yelling," she yelled, then timidly sat down on the couch and buried her head in her hands, her elbows resting on her knees.

Eliot took a deep breath and paced slowly behind the back of the couch, stretching, or flexing, his hands behind his head. Yup, way out of his comfort zone.

"Did you think about why you did it?" he asked more softly as he walked around and sat on the couch next to her. Abby shook her head, which still rested in her palms. Eliot could see tears slipping out from under her hands and trickling down her arms.

"I don't know," the teenager replied.

"Yes, you do," he pressed, still softly. Abigail shrugged once more.

"Because Kyle thought it'd be a good idea," she finally declared softly, lifting her head from her hands, pulling her feet up onto the couch and wrapping her arms around her legs. "And I thought he might finally ask me out."

"Abs, you shouldn't have to get drunk in order for him to like you or ask you out," he explained but Abby said nothing. She just stared at her fingers, which were fiddling uncomfortably. "Abby," he said softly. "You have to be true to yourself Abby, that's it. At this stage in life, that's all anyone can ask you to do." the words sounded cheesy and cliché as they slipped out of his mouth but he did not care. "You're young Abby, the world is open; you've got the whole world at your finger-tips. Just, don't be afraid to stand your ground. Don't be afraid to stand up to who you are. You shouldn't need to do things you don't want, be who you don't want to fit in, or for any other reason. You always have a choice Abby; use it," reciting the words like he'd heard them yesterday.

"Ma used to say that," Abby replied, cracking a slight smile from her red, blotchy face.

"Yeah well, that advice, that was _all _your ma," Eliot confessed, pulling the teenager close to him.

"Oh?"

For a moment, Eliot considered telling her the story of how, when he was first noticed by Moreau, he had gone to his sister, confided in her, and asked for her advice. He considered telling her how his sister had told him to 'stand his ground' and 'do what's right'. He considered telling her how her mother's advice had given him the smarts to say no to Moreau, before he realised that it was that action which, ultimately had ended her death.

"What? You think I got the smarts to come up with that?" he joked instead. "Yeah," he continued more seriously. "She gave some good advice, your ma. Smartest woman I've ever met."

"I'm sorry Dya Dya," she apologised. "I'm grounded aren't I?"

"Hell yeah," he replied bluntly.

"How long?"

"'Till you're thirty."

* * *

><p><strong>Title and some of Eliot's 'speech' stolen from Time and Space by the Accidental<strong>

**I was pretty happy with this chapter, what do you think?**


	32. Happy Birthday To Sophie

**Has anyone else noticed the distinct lack of birthdays celebrated on Leverage?  
>I thought I'd rectify that with something little.<strong>

* * *

><p>Abby was driving home from school when the phone rang, just like it had been doing all day. It was driving her crazy and she had considered several times tossing out the window. Then she remembered she was on thin ice as it was and really didn't want to piss Eliot off any more than she already had, so, rather than incurring the wrath of her uncle, she pressed the decline button.<p>

Then, like clockwork, it rang again, almost immediately. This time, she'd had enough and she answered it furiously.

"Just leave me alone! I don't want anything to do with you!" she yelled after pressing a button on the dash, answering the phone on the car's speaker.

"_What did I do?" _came Parker's innocent, and confused, voice over the speakers.

Abby sighed. "No, not you Parker, I thought you were… someone else," she explained. "What's up?"

"_What do I get Sophie?" _she asked.

"What are you… why are you getting Sophie something?" Abby questioned in response.

"_Hardison and I found a birthday card addressed to Charlotte Prentice; her birthday's today."_

"Who's Charlotte Prentice?" Abby was still mildly confused; sometimes Parker's thoughts could be so flighty.

_"__Sophie's princess name,"_ Parker declared, as though it was obvious. _"So what do I get her_?"

"Umm," Abby thought for a moment. "Get her something personal. Think of something you've done together that meant something to both of you and get her something to do with that.

Parker's silence was a clear indication that Abby's suggestion had just gone way over her head.

"Try, try, thinking of something that she loves and getting something related to that," she tried again, thinking something more simple would be more effective.

"_Right," _the thief said decidedly and then hung up the phone.

Abby only had a chance to sigh briefly before the phone rang again.

_"__Which restaurant is fancier?" _Hardison's voice asked before Abby could greet him. _"Abe and Louie's or Bricco?"_

"I've lived in this city a grand total of five months Alec," she replied. "Why don't you ask Eliot?"

"_I did, then he got all aggressive when I interrupted his cake baking." _Abby chuckled slightly at the notion. "_Care to make an educated guess?"_

"For Sophie's sake, go for the one with the more expensive wine," she suggested.

"_I like your thinking Ace!" _the hacker grinned, already acquiring some reservations. _"Talk later."_

"Wait, Alec," she said quickly, just in time before he hung up.

"_Yeah?"_

"Is Eliot going to let me go?" she asked. "Because, you know, still very, _very_ grounded."

"_Yo Eliot!" _Hardison shouted out to the hitter baking in the kitchen.

"_What Hardison?" _Abby heard Eliot's voice, angry and frustrated, through the phone.

"_Abby off the hook tonight for Sophie's b'day?"_

Abby heard Eliot sigh. "_Just for tonight,"_ he conceded.

"_You catch that?" _the hacker asked.

"Yes I did!"

"_I'll catch you later then."_

He hung up the phone quickly and, as she turned the corner, her phone buzzed again. She checked the caller ID and, pulling up to the bar, she furiously turned it off, tossed it onto the seat next to her and made her way up to Nate's apartment.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was rare that the team got to actually _go _out for dinner. It was rare that there was an occasion good enough for them to dress up and deal with actual people, without there being an ulterior motive.

It was an especially difficult feat for Parker, but not so much for Sophie, who thrived on social interaction.

In fact, Sophie would have loved to soak in the town and the rich culture of Boston more often, but she rarely got a chance to. Hence why the decision had been made to go out for her birthday, rather than have Eliot create a delicious meal.

"This is amazing Nate," Sophie praised as she eyed off the restaurant, its people and its food.

"You're welcome," he replied simply.

Abby giggled silently and Hardison looked up from his menu and gave Nate a quick glare. He let slide, however, the fact that it had been him, and not Nate, to choose the restaurant and organise the evening. Instead, he went for something a little more subtle.

"We would have organised something more…extravagant, but we weren't given much notice," Hardison noted.

The dig was subtle but in good fun.

"Tell me Hardison, how long have you had your web crawlers searching for info on Charlotte," Sophie replied, a similar amount of playful criticism in her voice.

"So this isn't your real birthday?" Abby questioned and Parker looked extremely disappointed at the notion.

"Not even close," Sophie smiled. "But this is still spectacular," she added as a consolation.

"buongiorno" a salt and pepper haired waiter appeared, hand's folded neatly behind her back.

"_buongiorno__" _Abby, Sophie, Nate and Eliot greeted in response. Parker and Hardison looked a little bewildered.

"_You speak Italian! How __marvelous__," _he praised enthusiastically then continued to take their orders.

"So what trick did you use to get the reservation?" Sophie questioned.

"I know the chef," Eliot informed. "Strange guy, but he owed me a favour."

"Ah yes, the favour," Nate said, taking an indulgent sip of wine. "The hitter's best friend."

"Anyone in our line of work's best friend," Sophie corrected, tipping her glass towards Nate.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So Abby, Hardison and I got you a present!" Parker exclaimed excitedly as the dinner was drawing to a close.

"We did?" Abby questioned confusedly.

"Uh, yeah," Parker replied handing over a medium sized blue matte box, wrapped in a black ribbon, to the grifter. Sophie smiled gratefully, although she did not expect anything spectacular.

Her expectations were wrong.

Sophie removed the ribbon and slowly lifted the lid to reveal a mess of dark coloured tissue paper. She peeled it away, slowly and curiously to reveal a delicately painted, ancient looking tea pot.

"Where did you get this Parker?" she asked in awe.

"You know, around," she smiled vaguely, shrugging her shoulders and winking mischievously at the hacker.

"Ah-ha," Sophie said as she admired the piece more, more than willing to let its questionable acquisition slide. "It's beautiful Parker, Hardison. And Abby," she added as an afterthought and smiling at each in turn.

Abby shook her head at the grifter, informing her, and her uncle, that she had not been part of it in any way. Both nodded, though they were already mostly aware of the fact.

"I remembered you liked drinking tea and what better way than with a Ming Dynasty teapot," the thief said proudly.

After the mention of the words 'ming' and 'dynasty', Sophie's eyes widened slightly and she carefully placed the pot back in the box.

Nate paid the bill and all stood up to leave.

"My gift is the cake back at Nate's," Eliot said in passing, not wanting Sophie to think he was cheap, as he opened the door and let the others through.

"My gift," Nate whispered into the grifter's ear, his hand on her waist as they walked in front of the others. "You will get later tonight."

"I can't wait," Sophie flirted back.

Behind them, Eliot walked with his arm wrapped around Abby, freezing in just her jeans and strappy top.

"I told you to bring a jacket," Eliot stated.

"I know!" Abby replied, she hadn't expected the temperature to drop so much and, even though she'd been warned, like any teenager, she didn't exactly like being told what to do. "You know I didn't _actually_ help Parker and Hardison steal that teapot don't you?"

"I know," he replied. "Hardison'd give it away in a second if you were up to anything suspicious."

"Yee of little faith," Hardison interrupted from behind.

"You've got a tell Hardison, I've said it before," the hitter declared.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You okay?" Nate asked Abby, handing her his cake plate as she washed up the others. He'd noticed something implicitly off with the girl at dinner

"Yeah," she nodded. "Why?"

"Just wondering," Nate shrugged and walked back to join the festivities.

That was a complete lie though and Nate knew it. She wasn't fine. After confronting her father she had felt fine, good even, and empowered. She felt like she had out the whole father thing behind her and she felt like she was ready to move on.

But then they had gone to Dubai and she had seen how much Sterling had risked to get his daughter back, despite the fact they were slightly estranged.

She had seen how much a father should care for his daughter, and then she had realised how little her father had tried.

Not a single phone call after she had been to see him, not any attempt at contact until now where suddenly, he was calling, and calling insistently.

And, for the life of her, Abby couldn't figure out why.

"Abby!" Parker said excitedly, standing behind the teenager. Abby, who was unaware that the thief was there, jumped and was ripped from her thoughts.

"Parker!" she scalded.

"Oh, did I scare you?" the thief asked, furrowing her brow.

"Yes Parker," she replied.

"But I was talking to you."

"I didn't hear you, that's all," she explained.

"Why didn't you hear me?" she asked innocently. Abby sighed and dried her hands on the nearest dish towel.

"I was thinking."

"What about?" The question was innocent and inherently Parker.

"He didn't want me Parker," she confessed. "He wants nothing to do with me. I don't know why, I know he's never wanted anything to do with me," she paused and lowered her voice. "So why does he keep calling?"

"Your dad's calling you?" she questioned confusedly and concernedly; in the thief's experience, blood relatives who've never cared suddenly acting like they did care was bad, bad news.

Abby nodded in response to Parker's question.

"Abby, I know what it's like to have your family not want you. I've had family, after family not want me and you know what I've learnt?" She jumped up with cat-like grace onto the bench and Abby, following suit, leant comfortably against the opposite bench, her arms and legs crossed and facing the thief.

"What have you learnt Parker?"

"It's nothing to do with you, all to do with them, and when you find a place you finally fit, they don't even matter, because you have something better. He's never wanted you because of _his _own stupid, selfish reasons; we do because we know you." She stated confidently, cocking her head. Abby laughed slightly, though mostly in awkwardness. "Don't laugh," Parker declared, with slight seriousness in her voice.

The thief's wisdom and rare sincerity made Abby smile.

"So you think I should just ignore him and let him go?"

Parker nodded adamantly. "People change, they do… but not in the course of a week. Let him go."

"Okay," Abby agreed, nodding her head slowly, then more firmly as she concreted the idea in her mind.

"Good," Parker replied seriously then her tone and demeanour changed and an evil, playful look came to her eyes. She jumped down enthusiastically from the bench. "And come play Twister with me."

* * *

><p><strong>I didn't feel like this arc was quite concluded, but it should be come the next chapter. <strong>

**Ta**


	33. Loathe to Refuse

She, really, honestly, truthfully did not expect to see him here.

She really hadn't expect to see him at all, really didn't want to see him at all. But her school was the last place she'd expect him to be.

He was standing in front of her locker, his hands were tucked under his arms and his weight was shifting nervously from foot to foot. And, despite the fact that he wore an expensive suit, something about him looked ratty and cheap.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him bluntly, pushing past him to unlock her locker.

"Really?" Steven questioned; there was almost laughter in his voice.

"Yeah, really," she replied. "I've given you no indication that I wanna have any contact with you."

"Abby, you left me a voice mail," he said, marginally confused, as he pulled his phone from the interior pocket of his jacket.

"What?" Abby asked, though now she was beginning to recall the night of the party and a particularly angry phone call she had made.

"Here," he said softly, handing her his phone as he pressed play. Abby's voice came through the device, audible, but slurred and emotional.

_"__Hey _dad," she emphasised her father's undeserved title; the disdain and contempt was painfully obvious. "_I just wanted to say thanks. Thanks for caring enough not to call; It definitely makes me feel wanted." _There was a ruckus in the background and her talking paused momentarily. "_Because _so_ it makes sense that you wouldn't call, especially since you're still gambling and embezzling."_

Abby quickly looked up at her father, giving him a half glare as she fiddled nervously with her necklace. It was all coming back to her now; the memories flooded her brain like a poorly constructed film.

She recalled how, in her drunken stupor and emotional state she had called her father in anger and pain, to get rid of him once and for all. She recalled how, in remorse and in an attempt to forget her actions, she had inhaled more drinks and alcohol.

Internally, she laughed at the notion that drunken her had come to the conclusion about her father faster than sober her had. But, then again, at least she had come to the conclusion eventually.

"_So, I just called to tell you, I just called to say," _the message continued. "_That you, sir, are a horrible father and a horrible human being and… I don't need you," _she said decidedly; and that feeling had not disappeared.

"So that's why you've been calling the last couple of days?" she confirmed.

"Yes," he nodded and then paused, trying to find the strength to get the words out. "Abby, I'm willing to make this work; I'm ready to be a father, I _am _a father," he confessed as though it had been weighing on his mind, floating at the tip of his tongue since he arrived there.

"There is no _this. _You're _not_ myfather," she scoffed. "My father is the person who taught me how to ride a bike, how to protect myself, who was always there for me. My father is the person who rocked me to sleep every night for weeks after my mother died. You're not my father."

"Well then Abby, I don't know what you want from me." He hitched up his pants and adjusted his jacket.

The notion wasn't completely incomprehensible. When Abby had confronted him, she'd never explicitly stated that she didn't want him to contact her, she'd made sure of that. But he'd done nothing; he hadn't tried to call, he hadn't tried to fight for her. He didn't want her, it was that simple.

"I want the same thing you've given me for the last sixteen years; nothing," she said without apology. He didn't deserve it.

"Then why call?" he asked, he was honestly confused.

"Because I was drunk, and because now I can do everything with a little closure," she replied but he still looked a little confused. "Look, maybe I thought, for a second, that it might be nice to have my father in my life. I had this ideal in my head it'd be wonderful. But even the douchiest guy I've heard of, travelled across the globe, went up against goodness knows what, risked goodness knows what to save his daughter who he hasn't really had any contact with for goodness knows how long." She waved her hand out, pointing to nowhere to emphasise her point. "Even he was willing to do all that. You weren't ever even willing to pick up the phone Steven." The use of her father's real name, and not dad, made it transparently clear that she had made up her mind.

"I already have a family who would climb mountains and fight armies for me, that's who I need. Not someone who's never cared."

"Abiga-"

"No."

"I was eighteen Abby, I wasn't ready to be a father, especially not with a woman I'd only met once at a party. But people change," he pleaded.

Abby shook her head. "Not in a matter of a week they don't," she grinned, using Parker's words from several nights before almost verbatim.

"Abby, I do care-"

"Don't pretend you do Steven," she stated as the bell rang. "Look, I'm not looking for you to be in my life, I've got a family and you've got yours. Just make sure you don't lose 'em," she stated as the hall began to flood with students all eager to go have lunch. It was only a matter of seconds before Abigail disappeared into the mass.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey, we missed you before," Mikaela stated as she walked towards Abby who sitting against a tree outside of the school's oval.

"I was just dealing with something," she replied meekly, swallowing a bite of her apple as Micky sat down next to her and pulled out her lunch.

"You okay?" she asked concernedly.

Abby didn't reply immediately but, after a few moments, she finally answered. "Fine."

Micky noticed the emotion on her friend's face, so she switched tone and tried to lighten the mood and cheer up your friend.

"I don't even know how you do it AJ," Mikaela exclaimed, taking a bit of her sandwich. "You've missed like two week of school in the last month and you're still ahead of me!" Crumbs and pieces of lettuce fell out of the girl's mouth and she sheepishly wiped them up.

"Yeah but, I'm not doing chem," she replied. Chemistry was one of Abby's worst subjects and just couldn't comprehend how her best friend was getting A+'s in an advanced class for the seniors.

"That's true," Micky smiled, taking the win. "Hey, isn't that Kyle with Hannah Bateman?" The teenager wiped her mouth and then pointed towards the bleachers. "I thought-"

"I dunno," Abby interrupted quickly then cursed silently as she somehow made eye contact with the teenage boy, who she had not spoken to since the night of the party a few weeks earlier. He was standing extremely close to another girl in their year level; her blonde hair was tossing about in the wind and the affection in both of their eyes was evident even from their distance.

He parted with his lady friend and began to walk over to Abby and Mikaela. Quickly, Abby stood up and brushed the crumbs off her lap before beginning to move towards the nearest entrance to the school; she just didn't need this today.

"That bad huh?" Micky asked, standing up and following her friend.

"You have no idea."

"AJ!" Kyle called out; Abby and her friend continued walking. "AJ," he shouted again, now quickening his pace to catch up with the girls. "Can we talk please?" he finally asked when he was close enough.

"No," was the simple reply Abby gave as she continued walking.

"Look, I'm sorry," he tried. "I thought'd be fun."

"Your dad's a cop Kyle, there was no way that situation was going to end in fun," she muttered but did not break pace as she intensely pushed the door into the school corridor open.

Beside her, curious as ever, Mikaela followed silently.

"Your mad because you got grounded or whatever? Geeze AJ, no one made you drink-"

"No," Abby yelled, finally breaking her stride and turning around to face Kyle. "No one made me drink, that stupid decision was my own. But you stupidly leading me on since we met, you never actually asking me out, that was your decision!"

Kyle looked taken aback as he pursed his lips nervously. Mikaela watched intensely; this information was new to her.

"I…I..uh…I didn't know how," he finally sputtered out.

"So you just thought you'd get me drunk?" Abby crossed her arms, staring at him intensely, before she turned to continue walking. "That was your plan huh? Get me drunk so I'm nice and, what, loose?"

"I thought _me_ being drunk would make it easier for me to ask you," he confessed. "Out," he then added as an afterthought. "Look, I'm not good with this, okay? This asking people out thing."

"Are you drunk right now, because you looked pretty cosy with Hannah over there," she stated smugly as she finally reached her destination; the girl's bathroom.

"AJ-"

"Well it doesn't matter now," she shrugged and pushed the door open.

"Doesn't matter?" Kyle asked in disbelief. "Abby-" he shouted and grabbed her arm, trying to get her to turn around. That was a mistake.

With all her might, Abby pivoted on her feet and used the momentum to swing her fist into his jaw. Gasps rung out across the corridor as students clicked on to what was happening.

"Don't," she warned simply then turned to walk away, not into the bathroom but back into the corridor; she just wanted to go home and feel safe.

Mikaela followed eyes wide in shock and in awe.

"You okay?" Micky asked, she couldn't believe that Abby, usually calm, even headed Abby punch a guy in the face.

"Tell me? Why is it that people who say they care, or who are meant to care are constantly disappointing?" she questioned.

Mikaela could not answer.

"Miss Spencer!" a teacher's voice yelled out in fury as they came jogging down the corridor; the news had travelled fast in an environment with gossipy teenagers and text messaging.

"Dammit," Abby swore, halting her stride and letting out a sharp breath in frustration. Eliot was going to be pissed.

"Maybe you could ask him?" Mikaela whispered smugly.

**Title plagiarised from Gotye's song of the same name…As much as I wish I did though, I don't own it.**

**Or Leverage**

**Or a house, in case anyone was thinking about giving one away.**

**There, consider it disclaimed **


	34. Let's Take A Drive

"Easy," Parker exclaimed, pointing at the blueprints in front of her. "Cut the power to the east side of the building, bypass the back-up generator then the only thing you have left to deal with is the vault door. In and out," she paused to calculate, "five minutes 32 seconds."

Nate nodded as Eliot's phone rang. The hitter answered it as Nate and the rest of the team continued with the planning. "Should be enough time," the mastermind agreed.

"I'm sorry?" Eliot asked; there was tension in his voice. "Yeah, I'll be right down," he declared and then hung up the phone.

"What'd she do this time?" Sophie asked.

"Punched Kyle in the face," he informed them as he walked over to the kitchen and picked up his keys. Parker let out an obscure, untimely laugh to which Nate offered a disapproving stare.

"Is that not funny?" she questioned, twisting around to look at her team mates.

"Not exactly funny, no," Hardison agreed. "Not entirely unwarranted either," he stated to Eliot.

"You need a few days?" Nate asked. Eliot nodded in thanks and made his way out the door.

"Why does she keep doing bad things?" Parker asked innocently, looking up from her blueprints and up at Sophie.

Sophie smiled at the fact that the minor indiscretions by Parker were seen as 'bad things'.

"Because teenagers do funny things some time Parker," she offered.

"I never did strange things," she noted innocently. In the corner, Nate chuckled slightly but the reason behind it was lost on the thief.

"You were a getaway driver at, what, ten? And one of the world's best thieves by 17," Sophie replied jokingly. "In the normal world _that's_ considered strange, whereas Abby's little indiscretions are more normal," she explained. "But that doesn't mean what she did was right," she added as an afterthought.

"Okay," Parker nodded and went about her business planning their heist.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Thankyou for coming," the principal greeted, standing up and leaning over his desk to shake Eliot's hand.

"Didn't have a lot of choice," the hitter replied, glancing at Abigail as he sat in a chair next to her. She didn't make eye contact and her hands were buried timidly between her thighs.

"Now, you're aware that your niece punched one of our students in the face this afternoon?" The headmaster asked, though it was mostly a rhetorical question.

"Yes," Eliot replied.

"Now, I don't know what's going at home or what your situation is but," he opened up a file on his desk and flicked through to one of the last pages, "she skipped out on class a few weeks ago," Abby's fingers clenched and her nails dug into her palms; she hated being spoken about as though she wasn't there or was a child. _Talk to me_, she thought.

"And then she violently attacks a member of her class, without provocation," the headmaster continued.

"_One punch isn't violent," _Abby exclaimed in Hebrew.

"_Punching someone without provocation is," _Eliot retorted, not convinced or happy. "I'd appreciate it if you'd let me handle this," he said to the principal.

The headmaster held his hand up. "Ultimately, how you deal with this is up to you, and I know you're a friend of the Bonnano's and there's probably a lot of complications at home," Eliot ignored the dig at his parenting and let the man continue, "but this can't go unnoticed," he explained apologetically. "We're going to suspend Abigail for two weeks."

"What?" Abby asked in upset, more than in disbelief.

"You need to think about what you've done," the man continued; it was the first time he had addressed Abigail directly.

"I'll deal with it," Eliot promised, standing up and shaking the headmaster's hand.

"Good," he nodded. "And you should know that, any more slip up's like this, we'll have to take further action."

"It won't be a problem," Eliot assured, looking at Abby from the corner of his eye.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Abby, Abigail," Eliot exclaimed as they left the school. The teenager was storming in front of him walking to her car. "Stop," he yelled.

"What?" she yelled back.

"Where are you going?"

"To my car," she exclaimed.

"No," he said simply and directed her to his dodge. "Hop in the car."

"And what about my car?" she asked in response.

"Ya mean Nate's car?" he corrected. After her fender bender, Abby had not been given another one to drive. "Hardison'll come and get it," Eliot replied.

"He doesn't have keys."

"Then Parker'll come and get it!"

She huffed and reluctantly hoped into Eliot's car. He exited the school gate and drove onto the highway. Neither of them said a word until Abby noticed that Eliot did not take their usual exit. "Where are we going?" the teenager asked.

"We're going away for a few days," he said simply.

"Why?"

"Because you need to sort yourself out."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They had been driving for a few hours, in silence, when they finally arrived at their destination. They had driven west, somewhere out near Ohio Abby guessed and had pulled up at a small, dishevelled, stone cottage, with an equally as unloved wooden barn sitting not far away from it.

It sat nestled in a thick, solemn looking wood and its worn and beaten decking, overgrown plants and dust covered porch were evidence that the house, if you could call it that, had been much neglected.

Eliot turned off the car engine, stepped silently out of the car and around to the trunk, where he pulled out a duffle bag, tool box and saw.

"This couldn't get any creepier," Abby muttered under her breath. Eliot ignored the comment and passed her the tool box. "Wanna tell me what we're doing here?"

"We're fixin' up the house," he replied as he slammed the trunk shut.

"I'm sorry? I get suspended and, rather than grounding me, we go on a little daddy-daughter weekend to build a house?" She could hardly believe her ears; this had been the opposite of what she'd expected.

"Yup," was his blunt reply as he looked her quickly in the eye.

"Sure." The teenager was still slightly confused as her uncle walked off into the house. "Why?" she asked, following her uncle after a few moments of staying still.

"I think you're a little lost darlin'," he began, pushing the front door open with a fair bit of force; it's ancient rusted hinges needing some coaxing to let it swing. "I think you're tryna fit into a world that you don't quite understand, and who doesn't quite understand you. And until you figure that out, you need something to work on."

Abby still looked puzzled.

"Just think you maybe need something productive to put your energy into," he explained further as they both stepped inside the building.

The interior of the building was even more unloved than the outside. The steps which led to the second story were badly worn, but a beautifully kept carved banister guided it into the darkness. It was void of any flooring and several walls. Those walls which were still remaining had sad, faded wallpaper drooping off them. But, as old, unkempt and creepy as it seemed, Abby couldn't help but feel comforted by its dusty embrace.

"Not much here," she declared simply as Eliot set down one of the bags on one of the only remaining patches of floor.

"Not yet," Eliot replied.

"Where do we sleep?"

"There's camping gear in the barn," he explained as he carried the tool box across the cross beams on the floor and into what had once been, and would be again, the living room.

"How long exactly have you been planning this?" Abby questioned, carefully following him across the floor, holding her hands out wide to balance.

"Since you skipped out on school." He bent down and placed the box on the ground with a hefty grunt.

"That long huh?" she muttered under her breath. "Nice to see you had a little faith in me."

"We'll start here," he pointed at the far west wall, ignoring the teenager's griping. "We gotta make sure everything's water tight before we can work on anythin' else."

"Start how?" she questioned; renovating was hardly something she was used to.

"Grab a hammer and some gloves," he stated, opening up the large metal tool box, "and tear down anything rotten."

"Got it," Abby declared and did as she was told.


	35. Words In The Fire

They had worked hard for the last two days but little, other than trivial conversation had been spoken. There was nothing wrong with that and Eliot needed to find the right moment or, he was hoping, she did. It was better if she felt comfortable letting it all out, rather than him having to press for answers.

They were sitting in the barn now, opposite each other on two long logs Eliot had dragged in and set around the fire pit. The fire was roaring, protecting them from the cool of the late autumn air and they sat as they ate mostly in contented silence.

"How's the stew?" Eliot asked, halfway through their meal.

Abby smiled and shovelled down another spoonful of her dinner. She wasn't normally partial to stew, but Eliot, she found, could make anything taste delicious.

"Good," she informed him and he nodded before looking back down at his bowl.

"I'm not sorry you know," she muttered. "That I punched Kyle," she clarified then took another bite so Eliot would have to say something or else wait in awkward silence.

"I wouldn't be either," he replied much to Abby's surprise. Taking the hint from the bewildered look on her face he continued. "He didn't treat you right, I woulda punched him, your Mama woulda punched him. I'd expect nothing less."

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, laughed and turned her attention back to her food. "I don't know how I feel about your expectations."

Eliot shrugged. "I always taught you to stand up for yourself. He led you on-" she looked up at him an angry, disappointed look in her eye as she wondered how he knew "-Sophie," he offered at look then continued. "Don't ever let anyone take advantage of you Abby, ever."

She was honestly surprised. She had expected him to be vastly disappointed at her actions yet here he was, more or less condoning them. She was sure there must be something else.

"But I also don't think you woulda just gone up and punched him, so what set you off?"

There it was. The something else.

"He tried to talk to me like we were okay," she told him but Eliot was unconvinced. She let out a breath before continuing. "My father came to see me."

Eliot growled.

"Apparently I called him when I was drunk and told him I didn't need him, but he wasn't too happy with that." She stood up and lent forward to scoop herself some more stew out of the pot sitting next to the fire. "He tried to tell me that he was ready to be a father. I told him to get lost and then Kyle tries to talk to me?" She shook her head and sat back down on the log. "I was done with people half caring and giving me the run around."

Eliot nodded, not wanting to interrupt her; he just wanted her to get everything out in the open.

"I really am sorry about everything El, the drinking, the unruly behaviour," she added meekly.

"You scared me Abby," he confessed. Now finished with his meal he placed it down on the ground beside him. "It wasn't like you."

She snorted a laugh. "That was the point."

"What?" Eliot asked. It was the first time in the conversation he had really been surprised.

"You expect me to be the good, sweet little girl I've always been," she began. "Part of the world expects me to be a criminal like my father and my family. The world's always expected these things from me and I don't want to be what people expect of me. I just want to be me."

"So actin' out's the way to do that?" He asked, light-heartedness in his voice.

"There's no exact logic behind being a teenager," she replied.

"Just be you darlin'," he offered softly and she looked down at her bowl and began fussing with the scraps and her fork.

"Even if that me wants to do what you guys do? That's not bad of me is it?" She asked after taking a deep breath; there was apprehension and concern in her voice that had not been there earlier.

Eliot sighed and shifted from sitting opposite her to sitting beside her, taking a few moments to really think about the question before he answered.

"This is not the kinda life I want for you Abigail, my feelings on that will never change," he began. "But there's gonna come a time when you're old enough to make your own decisions and I know, whatever life you choose, it'll be a good one. Because you're one of the smartest, kindest kids I know."

She nodded slowly and he nudged her lightly. It was a comforting feeling she found, having him by her side.

"And no, it's not bad of you. You think that wantin' to do all those things makes you a bad person? Means you're a good person for wantin' to help. The fact that this is playin' on your conscience means you're a good person."

"I guess so," she agreed, wiping a small tear from her eye.

"We need to talk more often, Abby," he declared, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "'T's not good for you to be so insular."

"I concur," she agreed, the sophisticated language a mask for her emotion. "How'd you find this place anyway?"

"Bought it a while ago," he confessed, looking around at the mostly empty barn. "Your mama always said she wanted to buy a place just like this for you to live."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He lifted his arm up and twisted so he was facing her better. "We grew up in a farmin' town and a small little place like this, outside the city so she could still work, so she could get away was, well, somethin' she never stopped talking about."

Abby looked up and around at the barn, taking the sights in with the new information.

"I reckon she woulda loved it," she noted, then looked down at her twiddling fingers. "We don't talk about her much."

"You don't ask," Eliot replied then stood up to start cleaning the dishes.

"You don't mind me asking?" She was almost surprised. Eliot paused and looked down at her concernedly. "I mean, it doesn't hurt or, bring up… whatever?"

Eliot shook his head. "You can always ask me anything you want about her. You can always ask me anything. I may not always give you an answer," he confessed, cocking his head to one side. "But never stop asking questions. Never don't think you can't talk about anything with me. In fact, can we make a deal? We start gettin' better at this talkin' thing?"

"That sounds good," she agreed, nodding slowly, then stood up and grabbed the bowls out of his hands to wash. She felt lighter; the weight of the things unsaid now lifted off of her shoulders. She felt contented and comfortable again.

"But not everything. Sorry, but there are certain things I will just _never_ discuss with you," she said playfully and, from her tone, Eliot knew the discussion had more or less ended and things were, with a little work, going to be okay.

"Then Sophie then?" he smiled back. "Talk to Sophie about all the girly things."

"Not Parker?"

"Ask her yourself," he shrugged, the grabbed the dishes back of Abby and made his way to the bucket of water they'd been using for washing up while Abby looked up and around quizzically.

Catlike, Parker stepped out of the shadows of the corner of the barn, frowning in annoyance at getting caught.

"Oh," Abby declared in realisation.

"How long did you know I was there for?" Parker questioned, slightly disappointed. She made herself comfortable and down next to the teenager.

"'Bout an hour," he confessed. "Why are you here, Parker?"

"I wanna help build things," she whined like a child, with her arms falling limp in suit.

"Do ya know how?" he asked and the thief shook her head. "Get some sleep, we'll start working again tomorrow," he conceded.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eliot was silently thankful that Parker had shown up the night before as he quietly slipped on his shoes and made his way to his truck. Without her showing up, he'd never feel confident enough to leave her and go do what he was going to do.

He shut the car door as quietly as he could, put the car in neutral, and let it roll a little before finally putting it in drive and making his way back to Boston.

* * *

><p><strong>Title taken stolen Patrick Watson's song. <strong>

**Sorry for the delay, I've been working extra shifts and overtime for the last few weeks and haven't had time to write.**

**Hope you all like it :)**


	36. Family Weekend

It took him an hour and a half to make it back to Boston then another twenty minutes to get in touch with Hardison to give him directions.

The hacker answered sleepily, not surprising for five something in the morning, but, upon hearing where he was going, perked up and gave him the address and GPS details without hesitation.

It then took him a further ten minutes to drive to the location and took five minutes to sit in the car and do some recon. Then, as the clock struck five to six, Eliot pushed open the car door and walked purposefully towards the perfectly kept house and, hesitating only slightly, knocked on the door.

Steven opened it with a surprised look on his face. "E..El..Eliot?" there was undoubtedly worry in his voice as his mind flash backed to the last time Eliot showed at his front door and threw a punch that was visible on his face for the next month.

The man rubbed his face in recollection of the injury as though it was yesterday as Eliot stared at him menacingly.

"Steven," Eliot replied dryly.

"What are you… is Abby okay?"

"No, she's not okay. Do you have any idea how much you've messed with her head? Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused her?"

The man opened his mouth to defend himself but instead, ended up gaping hopelessly like a fish.

"Cleary not Steven, so I'll say it again," he continued forcefully. "Stay away."

"No threats?" he questioned, cautiously and stupidly, as Eliot, with his already clenched fist, threw a perfect right hook into Steven's jaw. The man, if he could be called that, stumbled backwards into the wall behind him, flailing his arms as he tried to regain balance from the surprising hit.

He grabbed at throbbing and reddening jaw; the hit was just as painful as the last time.

Eliot stood for a moment, letting the man stagger, then threw another punch to the same side of the face but this time to his eye.

It was highly satisfying.

"Didn't think it was necessary," Eliot smirked as he walked away, leaving the man gaping in his foyer; after all, the last punch had kept him away for 16 years, with any luck this one would do the same.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

By the time Eliot returned back to the house, the sun was rising and, with it, were Parker and Abby.

"Where'd you go?" Abby questioned as he walked into the barn. She was slipping on another jumper, trying to stay off the morning chill.

Parker, on the other hand, was standing, in just a pair of jeans and a singlet, in the middle of the room, effortlessly picking locks.

"Went to get coffee and donuts for breakfast," he explained, holding up the tray of beverages and bag of donuts as he did.

"Oh!" Abby replied, leaping up to seize the bag of donuts from his hand and grab a dose of much needed caffeine.

"Did you get the one with the m'n'm's?" Parker asked enthusiastically.

"No," was Eliot's gruff reply.

She shrugged and waited patiently for Abby to pass the bag over. When it was handed to her, she dug through it eagerly.

Abby meanwhile, held the donut in her mouth as she sat down next to last night's embers and pulled on her shoes.

Eliot, upon receiving the crumbs and half eaten donuts which Parker had decided she was not fond of, sat down next to her as he chucked a few branches on the fire.

"Igarfunsterma," Abby mumbled, the uneaten donut still hanging out of her mouth.

"What?" Eliot laughed.

With both shoes now on, she grabbed the donut with her hand and swallowed the crumbs. "I had fun yesterday," she repeated.

"I did too," Eliot agreed, pocking the fire with a long branch, trying to get it going. "Do it again sometime?"

She nodded and, fixing up the cuff on her pants, smiled. "It'd like that."

They continued throughout day working on the back of the house, tearing down rotten wood and ripping out the old boards. It was actually quite enjoyable, Abby and, not surprisingly, Parker found. There was something about being destructive, but in a productive manner, that was remarkably therapeutic.

They worked mostly in silence but occasionally, they exchanged small conversation, but mostly, it was a time of quiet contemplation. Or, rather, quietly contemplating while half listening to Parker and her excited rants.

They remained in silence until late in the afternoon when the crinkling of a car on the stone driveway interrupted their productivity.

Eliot paused and, motioning to the others to do the same, he made his way to the nearest (but pane-less) window, gripping a crowbar tight in his hand.

The hitter looked cautiously out into the yard and, upon seeing Hardison, Sophie and Nate step out of the vehicle, he relaxed.

"Look at this beautiful sunshine!" Sophie declared, tilting her head up to the sky and soaking in all of the heat as she shut the car door.

"Look at all these damn bugs!" Hardison cursed, swatting at the air at flinching at any sort of movement in his peripherals.

"You wanted to come out here Hardison," Nate retorted as he made his way around to the trunk of the vehicle.

"Y'all conned me into coming out here," the hacker corrected, jumping to his left as he swiped at his jacket. He could have sworn he saw another damn creepy crawly.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Nate smiled, pulling out his and Sophie's bag and slamming the trunk shut.

"What are you guys doing here?" Abby asked enthusiastically from the front door. She had made her way there after Eliot had told her who had arrived. Parker had followed, surprising Abby by jumping quickly onto her back and running down the stairs to greet Hardison.

"We thought it might be nice to come and, you know, help out," Sophie explained, making her way up to the house.

"You? And Hardison? You're going to help out?" Abby asked in disbelief. Nate snickered.

"It's not entirely unbelievable," Sophie retorted, kissing Abby on the cheek in greeting.

"Nate," Eliot greeted simply, leaning against door frame.

"Eliot," the man replied, following the grifter up the stairs. "Need a hand?" He placed their bags down next to front door.

"If you're prepared to get your hands dirty."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Who buys a rotten house?" Hardison asked as he pulled away half of a rotten board.

"Someone who wants to fix it up, Hardison," Eliot replied, throwing a few pieces of timber out the window into the junk pile.

"So how come you're really here?" Abby asked, wiping the sweat off her face with her forearm and pausing to take a drink of water.

Sophie and Nate both looked at Eliot who gave them a slight nod of assurance.

"We pulled a con yesterday," Nate began but was swiftly taken over by Sophie.

"On your father."

"Really?" she asked, screwing the lid up on the bottle.

"You pulled a con without me?" Parker asked disappointingly as she gestured to Abby to pass the water bottle over.

"That's okay, isn't it?" Sophie confirmed.

All eyes were on her as she considered the question. "Yeah," she said firmly, tossing the bottle to Parker. The thief caught it with ease. "Yeah, that's good."

Sophie let out a sigh of relief.

"How did you con him?" Parker asked. Despite the fact she was still disappointed she hadn't been asked to join, her voice was filled with enthusiasm.

**This chapter was especially written for **

**I hope this was satisfying for you =) It certainly was for me **


	37. A Three Man Con

"How did you con him?" Parker asked with enthusiasm.

Nate, lifting up a plank of wood, began to run through the details.

_Nate straightened up his jacket before he entered Case's office. He was eager for this. _

_Nate looked the man up and down; the similarities between his and Abigail's features were remarkable. They had the same features, same nose, same hair but different smile; Abby's was much more like Eliot's (and her mother's he supposed) and much more sincere. _

_"__Mr Case, thankyou for seeing me on such short notice," he smiled then reached his hand across the desk for the man to shake. Case did so, by quickly, gripping Nate's hand only slightly before pulling it back close to his body. "David Bridie."_

_"__What can I do for you Mr Bridie?" Case asked, spinning slightly from side to side in his chair, already eager to leave. _

_"__I'll be quick," Nate ensured. "I have a friend at the SEC," Case's eye's widened in fear; he stopped swinging in his chair and directed all of his attention towards Nate. "Yes, we know about your not so little indiscretions."_

_"__How?" he asked, sounding already resigned. _

_"__Mr Case, we're the SEC," he stated smugly. "We _always _know."_

_Case lent forward, resting his hands on his temples and elbows on his desk in disbelief. "Dear god," he cursed under his breath. "Chris."_

_"__I'm sorry?"_

_"__My son, Chris, I'm… I've screwed everything up haven't I?" He sounded exasperated. _

_"__Yes, quite the predicament you've found yourself in isn't it?" Nate asked slyly and, hearing the shrewdness in the man's voice, Case looked up. _

_"__You know a way out." It wasn't a question, merely an observation and a plea for assistance. _

_"__I may," Nate smiled. "One that will benefit both of us."_

_"__When the cops come to arrest you, I give it a day or two," he added as a side note. "Trade them this information." Nate held out a USB drive and passed it to the man, who fiddled with it nervously between his fingers. "For your freedom," he continued. _

_"__Why would you help me?" Case asked suspiciously, looking down at the drive and back up at Nate. _

_"__That information there," he nodded to the USB, "needs to go to the police but I can't deliver it to them without putting myself in the firing range."_

_Case nodded slowly then sat in silence. "I'll do almost anything."_

"What type of con is that!?" Parker exclaimed in disbelief as she angrily threw a piece of timber into the junk pile. You gave him the information to get away?"

"Parker," Sophie scalded in a low tone. "People have feelings remember."

"Sorry," the thief muttered.

"You didn't let him get away did you?" Abby asked cautiously.

"No," Hardison replied, now grinning as he stood up from tearing out the flooring and brushed off his hands. "But we didn't exactly get him arrested either."

_"__Mr Case could you stand up for me please," Hardison demanded barging straight into Case's office around an hour after Nate had left. _

_"__I'm sorry, Mr Case, they just barged in," the receptionist, panicky and flustered stated to her boss. _

_"__It's fine Ellie," he assured her as he stood up. _

_"__Very good," Hardison praised. "My name is Agent Ben Marling with the SEC and you're under arrest for embezzlement-"_

_"__I'd like to make a deal," he said quickly, upon hearing the word 'arrest'. _

_"__Sir, I doubt there's anything you can offer us," Hardison replied, turning Steven to face the wall and pulling out a set of hand cuffs. _

"So you did arrest him?" Abby asked.

"I'm getting to it!" Hardison exclaimed. "So, after that, we took him down to the station."

"The actual police station?" Eliot questioned in disbelief; it was unheard of for con men and criminals to willingly walk into a police station, even if it was part of the con.

"We may or may not have stolen-"

"Borrowed," Nate corrected.

"Borrowed Bonnano's precinct," Hardison continued.

"Was he aware of this?" the teenager enquired as she sat down to listen. Eliot gave her a brief glare and, after rolling her eyes she stood back up and continued working.

"He offered," Sophie explained. "After we convinced him it was necessary."

"Right," Abby stated. "Carry on."

"_Mr Case you understand these are very serious allegation's facing you," Hardison exclaimed. Steven was sitting in the cold metal chair of one of the back interrogation rooms while Hardison stood up, dominating the space in front of him. _

_"__Yes, I understand, and I want to make a deal," the incarcerated man replied, adamantly and concisely._

_"__That's not possible," the hacker replied. "You stole over _a hundred and fifty thousand _dollars."_

_"__I have information on Charles Henson," he stated coolly, a task which Hardison was surprised he could do under the pressure. _

_Hardison raised his brow and there was a knock on the one way mirror behind him. "Excuse me," he declared then walked out of the room to go talk to Sophie. _

"Who's Charles Henson?" Abby asked, sticking her hand up into the sky like an enthusiastic school child.

"Small business owner," Nate offered, finally wrenching a piece of wood from the skirting which he had been wrestling with for the past several minutes

"Why would the SEC care about him?" she asked again inquisitively.

"He's running a Ponzi scheme," Sophie explained.

"But you said he was small time?" It was Parker who had asked the question this time. Nate shook his head.

"The SEC, when it comes to Ponzi schemes, doesn't matter how small they are, will always take drastic action," the mastermind explained.

"Why?" The teenager had once again taken over the questioning.

"Ponzi schemes _always _start off small," Sophie, once again, took over the explanation. "The FBI, SEC and a myriad of other government agencies always try to take them down before they get big enough to do too much damage."

"Okay," she stated, satisfied. "So then what?"

"Then," Sophie said proudly, "came my part of the con."

_"__This is so wrong," Hardison exclaimed, walking into the observation room. Looking through the window he could see Case fidgeting nervously._

_"__What is?" Sophie asked in response. Her arms were crossed and she was staring at their mark intensely; studying him intensely. _

_"__Being in a police building," he explained. "I swear, any second now, I'm going to get arrested."_

_Sophie ignored the man's somewhat precented fear. "Have you noticed they both do _that _when they're nervous?" She lifted one of her hands out of the cross and pointed at Case. _

_"__What?"_

_"__Fiddle, with their fingers and feet," she clarified. "They're fidgeters." _

_"__Good thing that's the only characteristic she gets from him," Hardison noted; he had zero positive feelings for the man. "Anyway," he turned away from facing the window to face Sophie. "Shall we?"_

_Sophie smiled in anticipation. "You're telling me you don't want to look into this?" the grifter yelled, loud enough so she could surely be heard in the adjacent room. _

_Sure enough, Case reacted to the noise, perking his head up and steadying his twitching fingers. _

_"__We don't need this!" Hardison yelled back. "We can bring down Henson another way. A way that doesn't involve letting this man go."_

_A small smile slipped onto Steven's face at the mention of being let go. _

_"__He'll slip up again, they always do!" Sophie yelled back and looked out the window to see their mark's reaction; he didn't show much, so she upped the ante and tried to make her contention a little more obvious. "Give him six months and he'll be running another scam and stealing the same amount of money, you'll be able to charge him then! As long as you keep a close eye on him, he'll be back here in six months!"_

_That got the reaction out of Steven that Sophie was looking for; one of frustration, fear and anguish. _

_"__You think that was enough?" Hardison asked, this time in a soft tone meant only for Sophie's ears. _

_"__I think so," she smiled then wandered out of the room and into speak with Case. _

"So then what happened?" Abby asked, completely captivated with the tale.

"Case handed over the information on Henson," Hardison exclaimed. "Who Bonnano swiftly arrested. He says thanks, by the way," he stated to Nate. "Big bust for him and he reckon's he's gonna get promoted because of it.

"We let Case go with a warning," Nate continued, with a nod to Hardison. "And a year's probation."

"That's not actually real though, is it?"

"No," Nate agreed. "But if he tries anything again, the cops will be sent all the evidence they need to prosecute."

"And he won't try it again," Sophie added. "He thinks we're watching him closely and he thinks _we know _he's going to try it again. Unless your father is a complete imbecile, no offence Abby, he won't try scamming money from anyone again."

"None taken," the teenager replied.

"I can't believe I missed out on all the fun," Parker moped.

"That's alright Parker, you can… go steal his mail or something," Abby suggested.

"Don't encourage her," Eliot scalded from the corner of the room as he set down his crow bar.

The sun was setting now, and they were quickly losing light. Soon they'd be able to get little done for the evening.

"How 'bout we call it a night?" Eliot suggested, pulling of his gloves, tossing them into the toolbox and wiping his hands off on his jeans.

Hardison was quick to jump on board. "Sound's good to me!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So, uh, how did things go?" Nate asked the hitter, pulling a small metal flask out of his pocket. Both men were sitting comfortably on a seat at the edge of the barn, observing the others as they entertained themselves. Nate passed the flask to Eliot.

Parker and Sophie sat in front of the fire, both enthusiastically discussing the recent heist of a Degas whilst Parker fiddled with a lock and Sophie brushed the sawdust and woodchips out of her hair.

Abby and Hardison sat opposite them and were animatedly engaged in a game of Go Fish.

"I think it went good," Eliot replied, he took a small sip of whiskey then passed it back to Nate. "I think she's gonna be good."

"Anything specific?"

"She actually seemed to sort most of the stuff out herself; she stood up to Kyle, put her father behind her; She handled it like her mother," he explained then paused and reached for the flask. "She's gonna be fine," he declared, taking a sip.

Nate grabbed the flask and raised it up, cheering the notion.

"I don't doubt it," Nate agreed, stuffing the flask back in his pocket patting Eliot on the shoulder and walking over to the fire to join the others.

Eliot nodded in agreement, taking the moment to soak in the sigh of his dysfunctional, makeshift family, stood up to join them.

XXXXXXXX

They left the following evening, having stripped the house back to its bare bones, ready to be built up again. A task which Eliot had promised, mostly to Abby and Parker, would be undertaken the next free weekend they had. Hardison and Sophie were less enthusiastic, but not entirely against the idea.

More or less, they had enjoyed being unbothered by the outside world and, unbeknownst to Abby, Eliot's obscure technique and the time and space it had given her, had really allowed her to think and clear her head.

Perhaps there was something therapeutic in working with her hands and building something. Perhaps it was the fact that she was away from the world that troubled her and safe with the ones she loved. Either way, upon leaving, she felt more (though not entirely) at peace than she'd been upon arriving.

She felt ready to build something.

She felt ready to build her.

* * *

><p><strong>sorry for the tardiness... I got distracted by a cat video on YouTube and we all know how that goes. <strong>


	38. The Experimental Job

**Like most of my episode tie-ins, a little jumpy as it doesn't exactly go into the details of the con, but if you've seen the ep, you'll be fine. **

They'd taken the job hours after they'd returned from renovating in Ohio and, at first, Eliot was reluctant. He forced himself not to roll his head at the client's mention that it was a heart attack that killed her father, purging the urge with a subtle inhale and turning of his head.

Nate was more immediately convinced as she explained through her reasoning and provided evidence about the research. And, upon her mentioning PTSD, Eliot was, though not visibly, more intrigued.

"Your dad had PTSD?" he asked with personal concern in his voice.

"You know, just a little something to remember Vietnam by," the client replied, the sarcasm leading Eliot to believe she was uncomfortable with the idea. Most likely because she didn't know how to handle it.

Not a lot of people did.

"You have to understand," she continued, turning back to Nate. "These university experiments are run by undergrads. I mean, kids, literally."

Eliot looked at Nate. He didn't notice the staring until the client was coming to the end of her plea. He looked into the hitter's face and took a sip of his coffee. A silent conversation decided that they were most adamantly taking the case.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Abs can we talk?" Eliot asked, hiking on one of his oldest and most aged jackets over a fifty cent shirt found at a nearby thrift shop.

"Mhm," she mumbled, placing down her pen and swallowing a mouthful of apple. "Is this about the PTSD guys?"

"Yeah, you know I'm going under in the experiment right?" he questioned, fishing around on the chaotic table for his beanie. The table was full of books, papers and worksheet's from a variety of Abby's classes; there looked as though there was no rhyme nor reason to any of it.

Abby nodded silently. So did he, he wasn't exactly sure what to say.

"I dunno what's going on in the experiments but, chances are, it's not gonna be pretty," he finally said and she nodded again. "Now, I'm not gonna bother telling you that my reactions are all pretend are just part of the con 'cause that's bull and you'd know it. What I will tell you is that, no matter what my reactions, I'm _okay. _Chances are I've been through worse and I've got the team to back me up," he nodded over to Nate and Sophie by the couches.

"You had PTSD?" It was phrased as a question, but she knew the answer, which was confirmed by Eliot nodding solemnly. "Are you sure putting yourself into this is okay?"

"Like I said, I got the te-"

"No," she interrupted. "I mean are _you _gonna be okay with putting yourself through this?"

"Abby, you don't have to look out for me, that's not your job."

"Well, it has to be someone's," she smiled.

"How the hell do you find anythin' on here?" he asked, still unable to find his hat. "It's a mess."

"It's an organised mess," she quipped and picked Eliot's hat off the table and tossed it to him. "And you didn't answer my question. Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yes," he replied adamantly, catching the beanie with ease. "See, we're getting' better at this communicating thing already," he added lightening in the mood.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"He's cute," Abby exclaimed, sliding into the seat next to Hardison. He had briefly returned back to the apartment after the Dust Brother's party partially to reground himself and partially to gather anything he needed before returning back to the dorm. "Travis," she stated, reading the name off of the board.

"Who? The mark?" he questioned horrifically as Abby rolled an apple around in her hand before taking a crunching bite. "The mark, the mark, the mark is not cute. He is evil and… no crushing on the mark-"

"Alec, relax," she laughed. "It was just an observation. You could match Eliot for the whole freak out thing though."

"Well _excuse me_ for trynna look out for yo' ass," he quipped. "And shouldn't you be in school?"

"Ordinarily, yes," she took another bite of the apple. "But I'm suspended 'till the end of the week, remember?"

Parker, unpinning her hair from the party and tossing the pins carelessly on the table, perked up and sped over to the bench. "Does this mean we can go repelling?"

"Ha ha, no," she replied.

"Wanna help me move some stuff into my dorm room?" Hardison suggested alternatively.

"That's probably a better idea, yeah," she agreed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So Eliot," Abby exclaimed, lying back on the couch in Nate's apartment, tossing a ball up into the ear. "Guess what I did today?"

He had been more or less silent since being locked away but it was clear that his resolve was unequivocal. He maintained absolute focus despite the noise and purposeful attempt to rip his mind back to a time less pleasant.

Only Nate, with his knowledge from chasing the hitter and his knowledge of the industry, and Abby, with her personal experience from having seen him come home broken and heard his tormenting nightmares, knew that that resolve came from unwanted practice.

"_What?" _he asked in response. He quietly took a breath in and then let it out slowly, trying to maintain his meditative state. He was sitting cross legged on the bed facing away from the door and staring at the blank wall. Normally it went against his better judgment to ever face away from an entrance but this way, facing away from the window, he could be sure they couldn't see him conversing.

"I went to a college class," she informed him excitedly. After helping Hardison decorate his room, she had, curious with the idea of college, snuck into the first class she had found and thoroughly enjoyed the content.

Despite the fact that she'd, more or less, conned her way into the classroom, she had been extremely excited to tell Eliot that she had enjoyed a normal person event, but she had planned on waiting until this all was over. Sophie, however, had suggested that she talk to Eliot now, in order to distract him and keep his spirits up.

She had been reluctant at first but upon hearing the CIA guy's threat and the change in pace of the con, she had grown almost immediately eager.

"_Is that so?"_

"After I dropped off Hardison's stuff, I thought it might be fun to check out a class," she elaborated. "Sociology. Did you know that according to some guy called Durfheim, because of the different collective sentiments, crime is an inevitable aspect of life and can actually be functional to society?" The words were repeated almost verbatim, but it didn't make it any less interesting or less true.

"_Good news for us then huh?" _he joked. "_If we ever get arrested, make sure Durfheim's on the stand for our trial."_

"Yes sir!" she replied smiling, throwing the ball up above her head once more. Rather than catching it however, it crashed back down into her nose. "Ow."

_"What'd you do?"_

"Hit myself in the face with a ball." She rubbed her face and reached once again for the ball which had fallen in the crack between her and the side of the chair.

"_Good job," _he joked.

"Hey Eliot," she said again.

"_Yeah sweetheart?"_

"Is this helping or do you want me to shut up?"

"_No, darlin', this is good," _he told her softly as he heard a pair of footsteps walking down the hall.

_"Abby, I don't want you listening during the interrogations, you hear?" _he instructed. "_You don't need to hear those things."_

"Okay," Abby assured him softly as the locks on the doors were wrenched open and Eliot was lead out of the confined room for day two.

Abby meanwhile, lingered for a moment, her hand hovering over her ear ready, but not quite yet willing to pull out the earbud.

"_Did you ever count 'em?" _she heard the man ask after a long, looming silence.

"_Counted what?" _was Eliot's dry reply.

"_You know; the people you've killed?" _

Abby swallowed but still did not move.

"_Give me a ballpark," _the interrogator pressed. "_It's gotta be a big number right?" _His questions were cruelly smug.

"_You think asking me about my past is gonna open up old wounds? Maybe put me off balance? Make me easier to break?" _Eliot's voice was steady; calm but deep with concentration and control.

_"I'm just trying to get to know you better. Why does that question make you so nervous?" _Yes, Abby thought, definitely a smugness. "_Is that what all this is for you? Are you trying to punish yourself for the things you've done?"_

Abby gulped and waited for Eliot to respond, to lash out like he was so good at. Instead he remained completely in control.

"_I think that's it," _the interrogator stated decidedly. "_I think the reason why you won't give me your word and walk out that door is 'cause you think you deserve to be here."_

"Abby," Nate scalded from his desk. Abby jumped forgetting he was there and quickly sat upright, twisting to look at him over the back of the couch. He shook his head and motioned for her to take her earbud out.

She quickly did as she was told.

"She's clear Eliot," Nate informed the hitter, still looking over at the teenager who had not moved.

"Is that true?" she asked, clearing her throat. "Is he trying to punish himself?"

Nate sighed, stood up from his seat and walked down to the couch to sit next to Abigail. As he did, Abby shifted, turning so her back was up against the arm of the chair and her knees were curled up next to her chest.

"Because he doesn't see what you and I see. What do you see, when you look at Eliot?"

"Someone who'll protect me, who loves me. Someone who makes a great osso bucco and who cares for me. My family."

"Right, and I, mostly, see the same thing. A part of my family who I can count on every day to do the right thing. But what do you think he sees?"

She shrugged. "People have a tendency to see the worst in themselves. I guess he sees all the bad things he's done."

"Right. And he's punishing himself for it. But that doesn't mean he's not okay."

"But he doesn't need to," she protested. "He's already suffered enough," she added almost silently.

"Not according to him he hasn't," Nate continued.

"Then what do I do?" Abby asked timidly.

Nate pondered for a moment, shifting his weight forward and placing his hands on his knees before deciding what he was going to say.

"Keep being the best you possible," he decided. "That's what he needs for him to start to let go. He needs to know he's made, well, not _made, _but that he's given something good into the world."

"That's it?" she was slightly disappointed; she wanted to do more.

"The rest is up to him," Nate shrugged. "But that doesn't mean he's not okay," he reiterated and Abby nodded.

"Can I help?" she asked, gesturing to the case board they had set up.

"Hmm?"

"Fix this thing, this job. I wanna help fix this thing." She stood up demonstrating her resolve.

"Well," Nate sighed. "You can go help Parker with the jackets and cameras I suppose."

"Sounds good," she thanked.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 12 for a request for Jinxcat21.**

**Speaking of, I'm more than happy to entertain ideas for stuff, even if its just like an inkling, or that'd be cool, or this scene's been playing around in my head, I'm more than happy to hear them.**

**Also, we reached 100 reviews last chapter (exceeded it actually) so good team work guys, high fives all around.**

**Hope you all are enjoying your weekend =)**


	39. The Experimental Job Part 2

"I'll take the odd numbers, you take the even?" Parker suggested, tossing Abby a bag of coats as they snuck into the basement of the psychology building.

"Other way round," she suggested, jogging briskly and quietly as she could behind the energized thief.

Parker shrugged. "Sure," she agreed as they turned the corner to where the guard was but silently spun back around seeing there was still a guard placed at the entrance.

She pushed Abby back against the wall and placed her finger to her lips.

"Guards," Parker whispered.

"What do we do?" Abby hissed back and Parker lent further into the wall and peaked her head back around the corner.

"I don't know!" Parker exclaimed, still softly. "I'm not the grifter."

"Neither am I!" Abby replied as the thief stole a glance around the corner. She quickly pulled her head back as the guard, previously sitting sedentarily at his desk, had now stood up and was suspiciously looking towards where the two girls were hiding.

"Shiny tomato," Parker swore.

"Okay, um," Abby began, thinking quickly and running through options in her head. "I'll distract him, you bring them the coats."

"What?" Parker asked as Abby wandered out into the hall. Parker was tempted to follow but, keeping her head, shrunk back against the wall.

The guard looked confused as Abigail traipsed out into the hall, swaying dreamily from side to side and he placed his hand upon his taiser.

"You can't be here," he commanded.

Abby gave a surprised look towards his taser. "I was looking for, uh, Travis," she told him sultrily. "He asked me to come down here."

The guard released his hand from his taser and shifted his weight awkwardly. "He's not here."

"Do you think you could go find him for me?" she pleaded, biting her lip teasingly.

"Sure, I'll be right back," he conceded and ran off down the adjoining hall to find his boss.

Parker snuck out from around the other corner and gave Abby a rascally grin. "Nice," she praised then ran towards the cells. "You coming?" she asked over her shoulder as she noticed Abby lingering in the hall.

"Yeah," she replied. "We'll have to be quick though. The goon'll be back any minute now."

"Why would you be meeting the mark down here anyway?" she asked curiously, picking the lock into the cell area.

Abby smiled. "Scrabble Parker," she informed her, watching the thieves fingers and their intricate movements. "Travis is a very avid scrabble player."

"How'd you know that?" Furrowing her brow at the notion while she pushed open the door.

"I, uh, read it in his file Parker," she lied, still smiling; the thief's naivety was always adorable.

"Oh," Parker stated, pulled out a pile full of jackets and tossed half of them to Abby.

They ran towards the cells, exchanging mischievous grins as they each opened their first doors and both quickly handed the shivering men their coats and exited just as swiftly and continued on to the next one.

When Abby made it to Eliot's cell she entered it slowly and was not surprised to see her uncle sitting awake on the bed.

His legs were crossed and eyes barely open as he meditated to keep himself calm.

"Abby? What?" he questioned, opening his eyes.

"Parker and I are delivering the jackets and stuff for Nate's uber plan," she whispered, wrapping his arms around his middle.

"_You_ shouldn't be here," he protested, hugging her back.

She shrugged, stepping backwards.

"I just wanted to say," she began then took a deep breath. "I love you."

He smiled. "I love you too, now please go," he urged as Parker tapped on the open door.

"Come on!" she shouted enthusiastically. "Scrabble guy's gonna be here any second."

"Scrabble guy?" Eliot asked, against his better judgment.

"It's Parker," Abby shrugged once more. "She's weird."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"That was a nice sentiment you know," Sophie praised, twiddling a pen in her hand as they waited patiently for Parker to return from seeing Hardison.

Sophie, slightly bored with her minimal input in the job, had decided to join Abby and Parker on the drive and take the opportunity to check up on Abigail. "What you said to Eliot back in the cells yesterday."

Abby shrugged.

"I do what I can," she declared modestly, without looking up. Her feet were sitting up on the dash board and her fingers were ticking at her nails.

"_Nate, we have a problem," _they all suddenly heard Parker declare.

Abby immediately sat up in her seat, placing her feet back down on the floor of the car and attentively turning to face Sophie.

"_What kind of problem?" _Nate questioned, sitting at the desk in his apartment.

"_Hardison's blown, I just found his CIA file on the floor and he's not here." _Her voice remained steady and calm but it was evident that she was worried.

Abby unclipped her seat belt and pushed open the door, ready and determined to go help Parker (and Hardison).

Sophie tutted and shook her head.

"Oh, no, no, no," Sophie exclaimed and Abby, looking back at the grifter, paused with one foot already out the door. "There's no way Eliot would ever let you out of the van in a situation like this and there's no way I'm going to either."

Abby was determined to continue to move but, upon Sophie determinedly raising her brow, Abby shrunk back into her seat and shut the door behind her.

She knew Sophie was right, but still.

"_Can you trace his earbud?" _Nate questioned.

"_I, um," _Parker stammered but Abby quickly interjected, pulling her phone out of her back pocket.

"I can," she declared, opening up the app Hardison had installed on her phone knowing that everyone else would be hopeless with this task in his absence. "He must have taken his earbud out," she informed them as she looked at the blinking dot just a few feet away from Parker. "Say's he's still in the dorm room."

Sophie looked solemn.

"How did they even find out it was him?" Sophie questioned.

"_We're dealing with a CIA interrogator, I'm betting it has something to do with him_," Nate replied quickly. "_Eliot, we need you on the outside," _he stated, snapping the hitter's attention towards the conversation and spinning out of his chair.

"_Why? What happened?" _he questioned, sitting arms crossed and exhausted at the interrogation table as the interrogator walked in.

"_They made Hardison, snatched him ten minutes ago," _the mastermind explained.

"_Where'd they take him?" _He slid a sidewards glance of hatred to the CIA.

"_We don't know," _Nate informed him, sounding ominous.

The hitter growled, preparing to strike. He'd said it before, nobody hurt Hardison except for Eliot.

"_Gimme five minutes," _he declared then pulled out his earbud and launched himself at the interrogator.

Back in the car, Sophie flinched and stole a quick glance towards the teenager beside her. She had not reacted and was staring blankly out the window towards the building where Eliot was being held, just visible through the trees.

Nate meanwhile, marched purposefully towards the door, running through plans and contingencies in his mind.

"What's the plan Nate?" Sophie asked.

"_We're going to run a variation of the Double-Play," _he declared, adding volume to his voice trying to draw attention away from Eliot's rash methods.

"Nuh-uh," she shook her head, "we don't have the aliases, resources _or_ location for that."

"_We don't need the aliases," _he dismissed. "_We're going to have the real police there. Sophie, give your police friend a call."_

_"_I like your thinking Nate," she praised, pulling out her phone.

"_As for the resources," _Nate continued but was interrupted by Eliot's heavy breathing as he came back online.

"_I know where they took Hardison," _he stated groughly. "_Same place where you had that first class."_

_"Parker?" _Nate yelled out.

"_Already on it," _the thief replied, sprinting as fast as she could towards Hardison.

"_Good, now, as for those resources," _Nate began again. "_We're gonna turn the ground floor of the psychology building into our station. Abby, go meet Eliot. Eliot bring your friends, we're going to need the man power." _He opened the door to his car, got inside and slammed it shut._ "Let's finish this," _he declared adamantly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Abby ran into the door of the Psychology building, Eliot was waiting patiently, explaining the rest of the con to their latest participants.

She didn't move for a moment, staring at him blankly, not knowing what to feel before she ran forward.

"Hi." She leapt into his arms and he stumbled backwards, both with surprise and exhaustion.

"Hey," he mumbled, ignoring the longing, confused looks from the rest of the men. "What do we need to do?"

"Nate's bringing everything we need. For now, we need to clear out that room," she pointed to the back of the hallway.

"Let's get started then," he agreed, looking to his newly formed posse to help him.

With the extra help, it only took them half an hour to set up the interrogation room and the hallway which led up to it convincingly enough so that it would pass as the Boston PD.

Nate arrived ten minutes into the set-up, taking over from Abigail who had naturally taken control over the situation, leaving an emotionally and physically exhausted Eliot to work with the rest of the men.

Grayson, hauling an unconscious Travis in the back of her car, arrived just as they'd finished their work. She gave them the nod of approval and, just like Nate planned, the flip on Travis worked like a charm.

Nate even took a moment to stare at the man, contented in his success, before he marched outside to the others; it was the first time they'd reunited as a team since Hardison's capture.

When Eliot saw Hardison, he embraced him with the same care and concern as he did after the job with the funeral home only this time, Hardison hugged him back with a thankful pat on the shoulder.

Nate gave him a swift handshake while the hacker gripped his bruised rib with his free hand. Sophie kissed him on the cheek and Abby carefully hugged him around his shoulders, all the while exchanging an unsure look with Eliot.

"I'm glad you're safe Alec," she stated, still looking at her uncle. The look was subtle but, more or less it told him that she was, for the most part, okay with what he'd done.

She was careful to act like it was okay too; careful to make sure that she didn't make a big deal about it; after her discussion with Nate she decided that Eliot didn't need to feel worse about what he'd done. The same as the rest of the team who were all just satisfied that Hardison was safe.

The rest of the team similarly dismissed Eliot's actions, all just happy he was safe.

"You think this CIA suit's going to be a problem?" Sophie asked, as they all made their way towards the van, satisfied with having seen their mark arrested.

"We'll see," Nate replied, linking Sophie's arm in his.

"Oh, and good job on getting rid of that guard Abby," Sophie praised, looking over her shoulder back at the teenager, who gave a mockingly proud, quick courtesy.

"I have a good teacher," she smiled back.

"Getting rid of what guard?" Eliot asked, pausing in his tracks momentarily.

"You'll never know," she teased as she grinned and stepped into Eliot's car.

"Meet you guys back at the bar?" Eliot asked the others as he walked around to the driver's side. Parker and Hardison, who were hopping into one vehicle, and Nate and Sophie, hopping into another, both nodded.

"Race you?" the thief asked hopingly with a strange look in her eye.

"No, Parker," Eliot rolled his eyes. "Just no."

He slid into the car, ignoring the pout on Parker's face and pulled out of the park.

"Do we need to talk about today?" Eliot asked only after a few moments of silence, without taking his eyes off the road. Back at the house, they'd agreed to be more communicative and, if he didn't want her off on another bender, it started with things like this, however difficult they were.

Abby, who was staring pensively out the window, shook her head.

"You sure?" he confirmed. "'cause you know, that whole deal we made-"

"Eliot, you saved Alec's life," she interrupted. "That's all we need to say." Her tone was adamant and determined; just like a Spencer.

* * *

><p><strong>Request for jinxcat21. I'm glad I was pushed to write this, I enjoyed it, however challenging it was. <strong>

**Now, next is where the Christmas Job I wrote would go, so, come the following chapter, consider Abby with a car, Nate with a boat, and them all coming out of the holiday spirit.**

**But, next we move on to the Radio Job!**


	40. The Radio Job

Nate?" Abby asked cautiously as the mastermind sat at the bench researching a client. She walked up from behind him and leant on forward on the counter.

"Oh, I know that tone," he replied, "That's the 'I want something tone'."

"You're very perceptive," Abby smiled.

"And flattery will get you nowhere," he added.

"Because your job has _nothing _to do with flattery," she noted, pushing her hair back behind her ears.

"Fair point," he agreed, then closed the file with a flick of his wrist and turned to face her. "What can I do for you kiddo?"

"Well, we have this group project for school and we need somewhere to put it all together and we can't use our apartment 'cause Eliot's well," she paused momentarily, then continued, "Eliot. So I was wondering if we could maybe use yours? Just for a few hours on the weekend." She added the last part quickly, trying to make it seem a little of a deal as possible.

"Well, can't you use someone else's place?" he enquired.

"Well, everyone else is either having renovations, lives too far away or their parents are having an affair so I was kinda the only option left," she explained, shrugging her shoulders.

"Parent's having an affair huh?" he asked, slightly intrigued.

"Yup, with two different women, but I don't think my friend knows that particular detai," she described. "If you need the apartment for a job, we can just move to the poker room," she added quickly, again, trying to make it as nonchalant as possible. "We won't impose or anything."

"Ha ha, no way I'm letting a bunch of school kids into the poker room where there is alcohol and goodness knows what else," he laughed, then lent back in his chair and stretched his hands out above his head. "You may use the apartment," he informed her and she grinned but, before she could get ahead of herself, he held up his index finger and she settled down. "_If _you are responsible," he added.

"Yes sir," she agreed as she nodded, a serious, but cheeky look on her face.

Nate smiled back briefly as he returned to his work but was swiftly interrupted by his phone ringing.

He looked at the clock and then checked the caller ID. He immediately tensed upon recognising the number, a notion not missed by Abigail who watched intently.

"What do you want?" His question was straight to the point and his voice hoarse.

"_We need to talk," _came Latimer's voice then an abrupt beeping followed.

There was a solemn look on Nate's face as the phone lingered at his ear before, coughing, he placed it down.

"Everything okay?" Abby asked cautiously.

Nate, more or less, had stopped drinking (excessively) since he'd started seeing Sophie so Abby hadn't really seen the less savoury side of Nate. She'd heard about it, part of the reason she was a little concerned for him now.

Nate coughed again. "Mhm," he murmured, shutting his file once again and swung on his jacket.

"You're meant to be meeting Sophie," she reminded him as he headed for the door, taking an educated guess that he was not headed where he was supposed to.

He ignored her and shut the door behind him. And, in a brief moment, she began to understand why the team was so happy that Nate had decreased his intake of alcohol.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eliot rapped softly on his niece's door, very early Sunday morning. "Abby?" he asked and she moaned. "Abby?" he asked again, this time walking into her room and she moaned again, this time something along the lines of 'sleeping'.

"I gotta go to work," he said as he stood next to her bed; she rolled over to face him, eyes straining from the light being let in from the hall.

"What's going on?" she asked, a hint of panic in her voice as she tiredly but quickly sat up.

"Nate's getting himself into trouble."

"Again?" She rubbed the sleep from her eye but wasn't surprised.

"Again. Everythin'll be fine though, go back to sleep," he ushered and the teen settled back down under the covers. "I should be back late tonight okay? Keep your comms on you and don't do anything stupid."

"I know DyaDya. You say it every time you go on a job," she replied and he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "Be safe okay?"

"I know Abs. You say that every time I go on a job," he toyed back.

"I love you," she said softly.

"I love you too," he said back as he quietly closed the door behind him, allowing his angel to fall back asleep in the mountain of pillows.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Several hours after Eliot and the rest of the team left, Abby sat with two of her school friends in Nate's apartment, preparing for their school project.

"This is a wicked apartment," the boy, Julian declared as he admired the set of plasmas on the wall and touch screen desktop on the bench. "So your uncle's boss lives here?"

"Yeah," Abby nodded, standing up from the dining table and making her way over to the bench. "But it doubles as an office. I spend most of my time here, rather than at home."

"What does your uncle do again?" the other, Mikaela, enquired, as she stared curiously at Old Nate.

"He investigates insurance fraud," she said without hesitation, automatically spitting out their well-rehearsed cover story.

"Sounds kinda boring," Micky replied and Abby stifled a chuckle.

"It's actually more interesting than you'd think," she replied, then rolled her eyes at Julian's incessant button mashing on the screen.

"How do you work this thing?" he finally complained.

Abby picked up the keyboard, typed in the password and brought up the desktop. "It's like a computer, only 100 times more powerful," she explained, repeating the words almost exactly the way that Hardison had used to explain it to her when she had once asked the very same question.

Her friend reached for the keyboard but she pulled it away, staring straight into his eyes.

"You can look, but you cannot touch," she stated, firmly, but still with friendliness in her voice. She turned her attention back to the main screens. "I can bring up the internet, television, Facebook, YouTube and pretty much whatever I want," she said as she opened up each of the programs as she listed them off. "Now," she continued, as she placed down the keyboard. "Can we please get this project done?"

"Kyle's not here yet," Micky pointed out meekly. She was aware of the tension between the two but still, he was part of their group and kind of necessary.

"Yeah, I know," Abby sighed, just as there was a knock on the door. She walked over, checked through the peephole and, upon recognising the face, opened the door.

"You're late," Abby stated bluntly, avoiding making any sort of eye contact with the boy.

"Yeah, sorry," he apologised, he body language showing even more awkwardness than Abby's.

"Shall we get started?" Micky jumped in, diffusing the tension and gesturing towards the dining table.

* * *

><p><em>Apologies for the brevity and lack of eventfullness in this chapter; just setting some groundwork.<em>

_P.S Many thanks to Inkhands96 for your reading and sparking the idea for the coming chapters; I hope you enjoy them_


	41. These People Are Trying To Rob Me

Two hours later, the four teenagers, though not putting the finishing touches on their project, had done all they could do as a group and despite Abby's (and, by extension Mikaela's) tension with Kyle, things were going well. That is, until she saw the news on one of the plasmas.

"In a dramatic turn of events," the dark-skinned reported declared on the screen, with countless heavily armoured SWAT swarming nervously in the background. "Here at the Virginia US Patent Office, the building has been broken into and an unknown amount of hostages are being held in the building. We'll keep you updated as the scene unfolds."

Only the Leverage team could cause that much trouble so, frustrated and nervous, she reached for her phone and earbud, subtly placing it in her ear and pretending to dial a number on her phone in order to remain inconspicuous.

"Someone please tell me that's not you in Virginia," she said as she walked away from the table. She muted the TV and flicked on another couple of news stations. All showed images of different angles of the building but the same basic scenario.

"_Depends," _Parker said cautiously.

_"__Yeah, why?"_ Eliot interrupted.

"'Cause it's all over the news. There are lots of cops, tanks, feds and helicopters," she relayed, her eyes flicking from screen to screen. "Is everyone okay?"

_"__All fine darlin'."_

"The news said there were hostages?"

_"__We are the hostages,"_ Sophie informed her.

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" she exclaimed, now nervously pacing around the apartment.

_"__And the guys with the hostages," _Eliot elaborated. "_We're both."_

"What, what, what happened?" she returned her voice to a whisper, and looked over her shoulder towards her classmates, checking to see if they were eavesdropping. Only Kyle looked at her briefly before he looked back down at their papers spread out on the table.

"_Nate," _Sophie said simply. It was all the explanation Abigail needed.

"_And Nate's father," _Hardison chimed in. Now that peaked her curiosity.

"Nate's dad? Eliot, what's going on?" she pressed. "Does this have something to do with that phone call Nate got?"

"_Probably," _Sophie confessed, assuming that the phone call was either from Latimer or his father.

"Everything's okay right?" She leant against the workbench and bit her fingernail.

"_Just another day at the office," _Eliot reassured. _"Speakin' of, how's the project goin'?"_

"Fine," she replied simply, letting the whole Nate thing go. For now.

"_And Kyle?" _he growled. "_Need me to beat his ass?" _he offered and Abby wasn't entirely sure if he was serious or not.

_"__Or I could taise him," _Parker added; this time, Abby was positive the offer was serious.

"Nah, that's okay. I can handle it and we're almost done anyway," she replied.

"_You're sure? Because I haven't taised someone in ages!" _The thief's enthusiasm was almost scary.

"I'm sure Parker," she laughed awkwardly. "And be careful please everyone?" she pleaded.

"_Always," _Eliot promised.

Abby sighed and fake hung up her phone before walking back to the table, leaving the coms and the babbling of the team in her ear. She was used to it by now; she wore an earbud a lot of the time and got used to zoning out the back ground noise of the team but, this time, she couldn't help but be distracted.

Normally she was good at compartmentalising and zoning out the team as she went about her day to day life; they all were. But there was a strange sense of worry, tension and resentment in everyone's voice that kept her listening. And the fact that Nate's father was involved, didn't instill much confidence in her.

Although she'd heard brief stories (which didn't help his image at all), Abby had never met Nate's father and she knew very little about him. What she did know that, him being involved with a job, or Nate having any sort of personal involvement in a case, was bad news for everyone involved.

So, she did try to stay distracted, honestly she did. She tried to focus her efforts on her classmates (though not on Kyle) and the work, but as, one by one they left with only Kyle remaining, she couldn't help but get sucked into yells.

"_I don't need you to help," _she heard an Irishman declare; who she presumed was Nate's father.

"_Yeah, right okay_," Nate replied sarcastically. "_Maybe I should have sent the Donnelley boys instead."_ Abby heard slight arrogance in his voice.

_"__The Donnelley's are only after me because of you." _

That statement honestly didn't surprise Abby, though it did intrigue her.

_"__That's why I sent you to Ireland."_

_"__What the hell was I supposed to do over there? Sit on a bar stool and tell stories? Hey I'm Jimmy Ford dammit!"_

_"__Yeah I know; you're Jimmy Ford!" _Nate was patronising him now.

"_I'm someone they tell stories about."_

_"__Oh great! The great Jimmy Ford, he comes back to add to his legend huh?"_

_"__You're damn right! I get that two million I'm a free man."_

_"__Listen to me, old man, let me tell me something, I got news for you; there never was two million. You were never gonna get two million! The minute you walked out of this building-"_

The yelling was inaudible for a moment as they both yelled over the top of each other. There were mentions of blind rage and not knowing what each other were capable of and suddenly, Abby began to understand Nate just a little better.

"_I did this job for you dammit!" _Jimmy yelled and the silence which followed was deafening. "_Latimer was going to kill you if I didn't," _he explained then mumbled, "_said he would kill ya." _

"_I don't need you, I don't need you, I don't need you to help me with Latimer-"_

_"__I don't care whether you need me or not, you're my son. _This _is what I have to do." _

Nate was silent which for him meant acceptance, however resistant it may have been.

"Abby, are you okay?" Kyle asked concernedly. She hadn't realised it, but Abby's face had become solemn and her eyes emotional; the pure tension of the conversation had upset her.

"Fine Kyle," she replied bitterly, shaking the emotion of her face. "You still here?"

"Yeah, my dad's on his way," he stated, gesturing towards the door but he still looked awkward and uncomfortable. "Is this about me?" he asked after a moment of painful silence.

"Wow? Really?" she asked in disbelief as the landline rang. Abby huffed and walked over to answer it. "Hey Cora," she greeted as she picked up; the only time the landline ever rang was when Cora called directly from the bar to the apartment.

_"__Hey,"_ came Cora's voice, "_is Nate there_?"

"No, they're all away on a job," she informed her.

_"__Oh, okay, because I've got a client here; they say it's urgent."_

"Umm," Abby said, slightly stunned and unsure. Eliot didn't like it when she got involved in cases but she couldn't just ignore this. "I'll be right down," she decided and then hung up the phone.

She paced in a circle, biting her nail for a moment, before she finally gathered the courage to actually go and talk to them.

"We're going downstairs," Abby declared to Kyle, and gestured at him to grab his stuff.

Kyle, though with a confused look on his face, did as he was told and followed Abby out the door and down the stairs.

"Where?" Abby asked Cora, picking up an invoice preparing to do inventory, as they entered the bar. She nodded at an olive skinned man with dark hair who sat comfortably and boastfully at one of the booths.

"Wait here," she instructed Kyle and he sat down at the bar. Abby took a deep breath, brushed her hair back behind her ears and then walked over towards the table.

"Hi, I was told you needed help?" Abby asked kindly, smiling at the man as she took the seat opposite him.

"Yes," he said solemnly, and Abby couldn't help but notice the lack emotion on his face. It was then that things started to feel off and her stomach began to churn.

"You said this was an emergency," Abby confirmed prompting the man to explain, though she sensed there was going to be none.

"Yes," he said once more "I have a problem." He paused to pull a picture out of his inside jacket pocket. "These people are trying to rob me," he declared menacingly, then placed a blurry, black and white photo of the team down on the table.


	42. Things Get Steadily Worse

"I know who's behind this," Nate declared. Everything was making sense and his brain was rushing at a hundred miles and hour. "We need to find my father, fast." He moved quickly towards the van.

"Nate?" Sophie questioned, trying to get him to communicate; something he was very bad at doing in situations like these.

"We need to find my father," Nate stated once more. "Okay, so he called the radio station, see if you can get a trace."

"Where do you think he's gone?"

"I don't know, I don't-"

"Where?" Parker interrupted perkily, ignoring the gravity and seriousness of the situation completely. "Don't you mean _when_?"

"When? When? What?" Hardison questioned.

"The time machine, remember," she said as though it was obvious. "He found the time machine in the patent office, then, when we all came out here, used it to go back to 1962… obviously.

"Why would he go back to 1962?" Hardison enquired.

"Don't encourage her," Nate declared, still pacing. Finally, Nate's phone rang, and Nate broke pace and sat down on the edge of the van, though his body was still fidgety. "Okay, guys," he directed, though Hardison was already prepared to trace the call.

They jumped quickly into the car as Nate nervously and fearfully spoke to his father.

_'__Has to do with all of us' _Eliot had told Nate earlier that day. The words rung in the back of his mind as they sped towards the warehouse.

Not just the team, Eliot had warned him, and somehow he'd forgotten that

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"We have a situation," the muscle declared speaking into the phone as he walked away from an unconscious Jimmy Ford.

"_What kind of situation?" _Dubenich asked, tension in his voice. "_Tell me you got Nate?" _

"Nope, he didn't show," the man confessed.

On the other side of the phone Dubenich sighed and rubbed his face in angst.

"_It's okay, it's okay," _Dubenich declared shaking his finger at nothing while the plan reaffirmed in his mind. "_Latimer's got his other men in play with the girl we'll just… go along with plan b."_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_"__These people are trying to rob me," _the man in front of her declared menacingly. Abby's jaw opened ever so slightly in shock as she stared at the photo of her family; her body tensed and her heart rate increased so it was thumping in fear in her chest.

"They're trying to rob you are they?" Abby asked with a clenched jaw; they were the only sensical words she was able to speak as she waited for someone from the team to jump in on coms. She heard nothing.

"Yes, they are."

"And you would be?"

"My name is Jo Morton, I work for Latimer," he stated and Abby lightly rolled her shoulders uncomfortably at recognition of the second name.

"I think you should leave," she hissed, standing up. From the other side of the booth he lent forward and grabbed her hand, stopping her. From the bar, Kyle squinted his face in concern and shifted his weight to get a better view of the situation.

"I'd let go if I were you," she warned, staring at him straight into the eyes, showing him he did not scare her.

"And if I were you, I'd wait to hear what I have to say," he threatened and, aside from shaking away his grip, the teenager did not move from her awkward lent over position. He nodded towards the door where a second, mocha skinned man walked through the door. He walked over beside Kyle and shifted his jacket, revealing the firearm strapped to his belt.

It took a few seconds for Kyle to notice, but when he saw the weapon his face went white with fear

"I think you should leave," she stated once more, but still did not move, only daring to flick her eyes over to Kyle.

"I think you should come with me." His voice was commanding.

"Or what?" she replied with a blank face.

"I think you know what," Jo replied, raising his eyebrow and forcing her gaze to follow his over to Kyle and the menacing looking man.

He stood up and lightly and inconspicuously as he could grabbed Abby's upper arm. She did not resist. She didn't know what to do; if a man had just threatened her, she just would have punched him in the face, or the ribs, just as Eliot had taught her so well to do. But now that Kyle was in danger of the other side of the room, and any action she took would impact greatly on him, she was clueless, so she stood up to follow him.

"Phone and earbud," he demanded softly into her ear. She did nothing, stunned in confusion. "Phone and earbud," he insisted once more, gripping her arm tighter and pulling her closer towards her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kyle shift nervously at the physical altercation, but she made sure to stay calm as she took a frustrated breath in and calmly pulled her com out of her ear, followed by her phone from her pocket and tossed them on the table.

"Now come to the car calmly," he instructed and they turned towards the door.

"Let him go," she instructed in a low voice.

"Come calmly to the car," he demanded again

Again, Abby followed and out of the corner of her eye she could see Kyle being pulled along.

They all walked outside, Abby in front of Jo, followed by Kyle then the other muscle and they were led to a nondescript silver van. Jo slid the door open and then turned with his arms crossed.

"Your phone please," he instructed, staring at Kyle in the eye. The please was not polite in any sense of the word.

Shakily, Kyle reached into his pocket and handed over his phone. Jo snatched it out of his hand and tossed into onto the sidewalk. He gestured them into the car then slammed the door behind him.


	43. What To Do

"Nate!" Eliot yelled then jumped out of the van at full speed as the explosion rang out in full force. The others followed quickly, all in shock.

"Nate," the hitter tried, kneeling down next to the man as Hardison held back the two women. He silently thanked Hardison for being sensitive enough for taking action without instruction. He made a mental note to thank the hacker later; this was not in his job description or any sort of training. "Can you hear me?" the hitter tried as he sat the man up and shook him lightly.

Nate didn't meet his gaze, instead staring out dazedly into the flames, both his body and mind in shock.

"Nate?" Eliot tried again then, to the hitter's surprise, the man jumped up and ran towards the flame. "Nate!" he yelled then ran after him, grabbing him lightly on the shoulders to stop him. He did not resist. "Parker how far away are the cops?" he asked, taking charge.

The thief, now no longer resisting against Hardison, made a few mental calculations. "Seven minutes 42 seconds," she finally declared.

"We need to leave," he declared, softly pulling Nate back towards the van.

"We're not even going to…" Sophie began, then trailed off as she pointed towards the burning warehouse. Eliot shook his head.

"No one could have survived that Soph," he said softly as Nate morbidly marched himself into Lucille, aided by Parker. "We need to leave." He was more adamant this time but Sophie still looked uncertain, or uncomfortable, for a moment. After a few moments of quiet deliberation and hope, still not looking away from the flames, she finally nodded and quickly followed Nate into the van.

Eliot was last into the vehicle, taking a moment to survey the scene, for anyone or anything out of place, mostly out of habit. Not surprisingly there was nothing so, with time a serious factor, he jumped straight into the back of the van and Hardison sped off.

Other then Eliot asking Nate about the extent of his injuries and his mumbled answers, there was little talk as they headed back to Boston. Nate said nothing, did nothing, he just stared with eyes glazed over while Sophie caressed his back with care and sympathy, Parker and Hardison sat silently next to each other as they, for the first real time, held each other's hands.

"Nate, I'm sorry," Sophie apologised, her hand tracing reassuring circles on his hunched over back.

"Dubenich," Nate said in a cracked whisper, dismissing Sophie's apology; her sympathy was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment.

"Dubenich?" Hardison confirmed from the front. "As in Dubenich Dubenich from our first job Dubenich?"

"I thought he was in prison?" Sophie added.

"He is," Nate nodded, his words barely audible through the dryness of his voice. "He's calling the shots from prison and trading Latimer with information about us and our jobs to do so," he explained after coughing to clear his throat.

"I don't get it," Parker exclaimed from the front. "Wasn't he just greedy? He wasn't dangerous."

"Prison changes you Parker," Nate replied, sitting and looking up for really the first time since they'd been travelling. "He blames us and he's had a lot of time to plan revenge."

"He's going after the people we care about," Sophie said, almost under her breath, then looked quickly up at Eliot, a notion of fear in her eyes.

Eliot almost swore his head off Nate. He almost punched him in the face as he pulled his phone out his pocket and dialled his niece in a swift motion. But he was too distracted, especially when the phone ran straight to voicemail.

He shook his head and placed his hand to his ear, activating his earbud. "Abby?" he questioned. "Abby? Abby?" The last one was almost a yell in frustration and fear. "Dammit Nate!" he cursed, tossing the first item he could get his hands on onto the ground, which just happened to be Hardison's bow-tie.

"If you'd have just told me _what the hell was goin' on _insteada just tryna fix every god damn problem on your own-"

"Hey!" Sophie interrupted, before things could get out of hand. "Can we argue later please?"

Eliot shut his mouth and was about to frustradely call on Hardison to work his computer magic before his phone rang.

Seeing who was calling he picked it up quickly, his worry only growing. "Bonnano."

"_Tell me you know where Abby and Kyle are?" _came his worried voice with no care for a greeting.

Eliot took a deep breath. "No," he admitted and he heard the detective swear under his breath.

"I came to pick Kyle up, neither of them were at the apartment and Kyle's phone is here on the sidewalk."

Now it was Eliot turn to swear. "Our ETA is two hours," he informed him, nodding at the hacker to step on the gas.

"_Any idea who I'm looking for?" _It was clear the detective was trying to remain calm.

"Anyone connected to Jack Latimer or Victor Dubenich," he informed him then continued to explain the details; vague enough that they wouldn't implement the team, but specific enough for the detective to actually be able to do his job. "Do your job, we'll do ours and I'll try keep you in the loop"

"_Got it."_

"We'll call when we get into the city," Eliot stated before he hung up the phone. "Hardison," he yelled out, wanting to get the man to work. But Hardison was already pulling over ready to let someone else drive.

As they switched drivers, Eliot pulled out his phone.

"Who are you calling?" Sophie asked, sliding the door shut behind Hardison as Parker sped off at an unprecedented speed.

"Reinforcements," he declared; he didn't feel comfortable with Nate on this one. He was compromised, going to make bad decisions and Eliot needed something, someone there to back him up. And the team wouldn't do; he needed someone who could back him up physically.

Especially now that a man had been blown to bits and Abigail had been kidnapped.

Yeah, he needed reinforcements.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Please don't hurt us," Abby sobbed as her and Kyle were pushed blindfolded into a room. The blindfolds were pulled off and Abby immediately shrunk into the nearest corner she could find, tears dripping down her face. Kyle's face was white with fear and all he could do was stammer.

The man who had led them in, not the same as the one from the bar, chuckled as he shut the door behind him, leaving the pair locked alone.

"Abby, we're, we're gonna, be okay," Kyle reassured though he was clearly still distraught. Even more so than she appeared to be, but the notion wasn't lost on her.

"Huh?" Abby questioned, straightening up and wiping the crocodile tears from her face. "Oh that? I'm fine," she informed him. "If they think I'm terrified and inebriated they're going to be slack and relax their security, make it easier for us."

"Oh," he replied as Abby looked about the room and peaked her head into a small adjoining area, which she discovered was a toilet. The main room was bare save for an aged tattered armchair and radiator.

The floor was concrete, as were the walls, which ruled out any sort of tunnelling or demolition (like that was feasible). The door was solid metal and the hinges were on the outside, which ruled out taking the door apart and there were no windows, just a flickering halogen light above their heads.

"We're gonna be okay," Kyle stated, mostly trying to reassure himself. Abby paused from pacing out the size of the room and walked over to Kyle. He began breathing more heavily and began to panic further. "What the hell are we going to do? What the hell do they want?" He began wandering nervously about the room. "What the sh-"

"Kyle!" she interrupted, trying to get him to calm down once. He did not.

"We have to do something!"

"Kyle."

"What do they want? Why-"

"Kyle!" she yelled once more. "Listen to me!" He finally paused and looked up at Abby.

She put both of her hands on his shoulders and softly sat him down in the chair. "Kyle," she began softly but strongly. "We _are _going to be okay. By now, your dad has the entirety of the Boston PD out looking for us. Plus, Eliot and the others'll be doing their thing and they will fix this. That's they're job. But, in the meantime," she stood up from kneeling in front of him and dusted of her legs, "we're going to do what _we_ can to help. Okay?" Kyle nodded then paused.

"What'd you mean by 'their thing'?" he asked and Abby screwed up her face. She'd let that one slip. But then again, now was hardly the time to try and maintain her family's cover.

"They're con men Kyle," she admitted. "Robin Hood sorta con men, but before all that, Eliot was a retrieval expert so he's well informed with this type of crime." She went on to explain what the team did and Kyle, remaining silent, nodded along as she spoke

"Have you been kidnapped before?" He asked when she had finished explaining. "Because you seem kinda calm?" His voice broke in slight panic.

An exhale of laughter left Abby's nose. "No, but Eliot made sure I'd know what to do."

There was an uncomfortable silence after that, just the sound of fidgeting Kyle's heavy breathing as he stared into the concrete floor and Abby leant against the wall, with her eyes shut, thinking things through.

Why, of all the people in the world, did she have to be stuck here with him? Was it some kind of cruel trick the universe was playing? Trying to push them together and use the stress and tension of the situation to form that bond you see in all the movies where the two hostagees inevitably have a thing? No way in hell that was going to happen.

"You know," she declared with her arms crossed, breaking the coarse silence. "What you did wasn't okay."

Kyle looked up at her, with a surprised look on his face, then looked back down at the floor sheepishly.

"And I'm not exactly happy to be in here with you, because you hurt me a lot, but here we are," she shrugged.

"Look, I don't know why I do that Abby," he began and Abby was uncertain if he was trying to apologise or not. If he was, he wasn't doing a very good job. "I'm not good with girls."

Abby shook her head. "That's not it Kyle, you don't want to choose, that's the issue. And you should probably figure out why," she declared, then pushed herself up off the wall. "But, in the meantime, we should talk about our current predicament."

"Okay," he said softly.

"Now, when they let you go-" Abby began but Kyle interrupted, his eyes widening in surprise.

"When they let _me _go?"

"When they let you go," she tried once more, "there are a couple of things you have to do, information you have to relay-"

"Why are they letting me go? And who are they?" He raised his voice this time.

"Because I was the one they were after!" She matched the anger in his tone, then lowered her voice and spoke more calmly. "They didn't go to the bar for you, they came for me. They're gonna release you as a sign of good faith, okay?"

"And who are they?" he asked again.

"I don't know," she shook her head. "Works for a guy called Latimer, he's been bugging the team for the last few months or so."

"You don't know what they want?" He placed one hand in his back pocket and ran the other across his face as Abby shrugged.

"Could be money, could be information. I don't know." She shook her head.

Kyle stared blankly into the floor before he shifted his weight and looked up at Abigail. "So, tell me what I need to do?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Sorry about the tardiness guys, uni has been hectic these last few months. Almost finished though, so after that I'll be able to get back into regular updates. _

_xx A Lyrical Dreamer_


	44. SALUTE

"So tell me what I need to do?" Kyle asked.

Abby closed her eyes and did her best to recall what Eliot had told her once. Or twice. Or several times.

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_Is this really necessary?" Abby complained as they sat alone in Nate's apartment. _

_The others were out on a fairly simplistic job and Eliot had taken the opportunity to continue her teaching if anything happened to go wrong. _

_"__Yes. Doesn't hurt to be prepared," he retorted. _

_Abby rolled her eyes. "Fine, tell me what I need to know."_

_Eliot nodded and sat down on the coffee table in front of her. His elbows rested on his knees and his hands were clasped. He didn't like that he _had _to have this discussion, but he knew with their particular track record it was necessary._

_"__When you get kidnapped or taken-"_

_"__When?" Abby asked with a hint of amusement in her eyes. _

_"__If," he corrected. "You need to remember to Salute."_

_"__What so I acknowledge the superiority of my captors?" she joked._

_"__It's an acronym," he elaborated, but did not smile. He knew that joking was a way of making everything seem less sombre but for him, this wasn't a joking manner. "We used it in the service to gather intel." _

_"__Oh, okay," she nodded, jumping to attention at the mention of the army. "So what does it stand for?"_

_"__Size, activity, location, unit, time, equipment."_

_"__I'm gonna assume you're gonna elaborate on that?"_

_"__So, size," he began, answering her question. "That's basically how many guys are you dealing with."_

_ "__It's that simple?" she asked and he shrugged. _

_"__More or less."_

* * *

><p><em>"<em>You have to tell them how many people there are," she relayed to Kyle.

He nodded unsuredly. "And how many people are there?"

"Four confirmed," she told him and he nodded slowly once more.

_"__So, A, activity," Abby prompted him. "What, do I… join them in a bored game or something?" she joked once more. _

_"__If you can, sure," her uncle replied, his tone mostly serious. "The more they see you as a person, the better it is for you. But activity is more like what are their patterns. How do they switch shifts? What routines, what activities do they do?"_

* * *

><p>"Next you need to tell them that they're weren't, aren't, weren't guards outside of the room," she continued.<p>

"How do you know that?"

She tapped at her ear; she had carefully listened for any noise outside of the room but had heard nothing, telling her that their captors had not been bothered with standing guard outside the room.

What that meant she wasn't sure, she was just following Eliot's instructions.

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_L for location. I'm gonna assume that means figure out where I am?"_

_"__Correct," Eliot smiled. "The best way to do that is look outta window, but that's not normally an option so there's two other things you can do. First, you count," he said simply. "Count how long you're in the vehicle and figure out how far away you've travelled. If you can, figure out the turns you're making and use them to figure out which way you've been taken."_

_She looked at him and blinked; that wasn't really in her skillset. _

_"__You're smart, you'll figure it out," he added in response to the blank look on her face. _

_She laughed. "And the second?"_

_"__Look at what sorta building you're in, are you in the top stories, basement, ground floor? Is it an old building, new building? Is there water? Can you hear traffic or trains?"_

_"__Basically be observant and be Uncle Shawn?"_

_Eliot tilted his head. _

_"__Yeah, only less…hyper."_

_Abigail laughed again._

* * *

><p>"Then you need to tell them where we are," she began.<p>

"But we don't know where we are," he reminded her and she rolled her eyes.

"No, really?" Abby asked sarcastically, then sighed, trying to drop the animosity. "You need to count," she began to explain to Kyle. When they'd first been taken, she had been two distracted by Kyle (his presence and fearful babbling had stolen her attention) to undertake this task and had cursed herself for not doing it. But what's done was done.

"You need to start counting from when you get in the van, car or whatever and until you stop. It'll give Eliot and your dad a rough estimate as to where we," she paused to correct herself, "I am."

"Count, count, count the seconds. Got it," he nodded.

"You also need to describe to them what type of place where in," she added. "That we're in a basement in a building with concrete foundations. Okay?"

"Yeah," he replied as his voice cracked. "What next?"

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_So, unit?" she asked, still laughing slightly. "I'm assuming you don't mean try and ID them because that'd be a bloody miracle."_

_"__No, just what type of person you're dealing with. Who's the leader, who are they affiliated with? How many people? Are they professionals, are they amateurs, _are they dangerous?" _he added finally in a deeper voice than normal. _

_"__I think I can do that," she said as she nodded slowly to herself. "And then what do I do with all of that?"_

_"__You need to figure out how to react. You'll have to make a judgement call. Do you try reason with them? Do you strike and run? Do you try and _'befriend'_ them? Do you act in such a way that'll mean they drop their guard?"_

_"__What'd you mean by that?" she asked, leaning comfortably back into the couch. _

_"__If they think you're scared, now I mean a freakin' wreak; like terrified, they'd probably drop their guard. But like I said, you have to make a judgement call."_

_She nodded slowly again._

* * *

><p>"The next thing if have to do is tell Eliot about the people who took us. Tell him the guy in charge's name is Jo and he works for Latimer," she brushed some hair away from her face. "Tell him that they're not directly dangerous and we've only seen one weapon.<p>

This had been one of the reasons Abigail had not been extremely fearful or excessively concerned. They'd never physically threatened them and she'd only once seen a gun and not a knife or any other sort of weapon. They seemed almost professional, in the most traditional sense of the word, in their manner so Abby was hardly concerned.

Kyle, however, didn't see her logic.

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_Time, that's usually a difficult one," Eliot continued. "Basically, you just wanna keep track of it okay. It's hard to do if you're not wearing a watch, but, uh, just do your best basically."_

_"__If you were going to come and get me, would there be like an agreed upon time where you would likely show up and save the day?" she asked._

_"__First of all, there is no _if. _I will always come and get you," he reassured. "Second of all, normally infiltrations are made between two and four in the morning, when guards are the least aware and people are in their deepest sleeps. As for agreed up on times," he pondered. "I probably couldn't give you one. Too many variables. Just be prepared, that's pretty much all I can say."_

_She nodded slowly, biting her lip and looking down at the coffee table. _

_"__Equipment then?" she asked, perking up with partially false enthusiasm. _

_"__What do you have that can get you out, what do they have? Weapons, how are they communicating, what are they driving? That sorta stuff."_

_"__Now that one," she smiled. "That one's straightforward."_

* * *

><p>"Is that it?" Kyle asked. He looked exasperated and drained.<p>

"Almost," she replied. "They've probably dumped the first car already but you should tell 'em about that anyway and tell them about the car they drop you off in. And give them any other information you can really."

"So that's it."

"Pretty much," she said as nonchalantly as she could.

Kyle nodded and he swallowed. This was not something he was accustom to and what little composure he had retained was beginning to fade away.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_I really had a lot of fun with this; the SALUTE thing is actually used by soldiers, not just when they've been captured but as a general observation rule, at least according to Google._

_Also, your reviews have been spectacular, thank you and sorry I haven't been able to reply to nearly as many as I'd like so here's me catching up with it all. _

dsnygal- _I'm glad you're liking the meshing together-ness and hope you'll like the rest of the tale!_

_Fritzbe- I can promise a little bit of Bonnano although I'm thinking I may not have utilised his coolness. I can promise another surprise guest though_

_jinxcat21- I wouldn't say sadistic... maybe a little danger stricken? (if that's a thing). And also, I'm really excited for the Last Damn Job part, I feel like you'll enjoy it _

_Guest- Many thanks and I have every intention to continue _

_Daisyangel- Good interesting?_

_Thanks as always_

_xx A Lyrical Dreamer_


	45. The Phone Call

"Okay, let's think about this," Sophie declared from the driver's seat as they neared closer to Boston. She flourished her hands about the wheel. "Why would Dubenich kidnap her?"

"Maybe for the same reason he did Nate's dad?" Parker offered. She only realised the inference of her words from Sophie's gasp and Eliot's terrifying and fearful stare. "Oh."

Nate was quick to shake his head. "No," was the quick reply he gave but with no explanation. Mostly because he didn't have one. "Okay, Hardison can you check footage?" he asked, taking attention away from Parker's abrupt statement.

"Already done man," Hardison replied, switching from his laptop to the van's main computer and bringing up the footage. He showed them the tape of the bar and how Kyle was used as a bargaining chip to get her to go quickly. It made sense; he had taught her to fight back

"Any way we can ID them from the footage?" Eliot asked and the hacker shook his head.

"No way man, sorry," he apologised. "They ducked the cameras; they knew where they were placed, the blind spots. I'm sorry."

Eliot clenched his fist in frustration but let it go; he knew it was a long shot to begin with.

"What about the van?" It was Parker who had asked the question this time, hovering over Hardison's shoulder.

"Reported stolen this morning so no luck on tracing the kidnappers that way," he confessed and Eliot spun around in frustration, trying to stop himself from punching something. Or someone.

"So basically we got nothing?" he asked angrily, turning back to the rest of the group.

"I didn't say that," Hardison replied calmly. "We didn't get anything from _tracing _the van but _tracking _it, well, that's another story." He grinned proudly and brought up a map of Boston on the screen. On it, were several smaller insets with camera views, pointing to various intersections and points on the roads. "I followed the van on camera a la Nate in London-"

"What?" Sophie asked in surprised and curiosity, stealing a glance in the mirror back at the team but Hardison continued.

"Lost him after a few minutes but we know they were headed east-"

"So we got nothing?" said Eliot again.

"It's a start man," the hacker defended and a small staring contest ensued between the pair; Hardison staring in concern and apology, Eliot staring in anger amidst the rigid silence until the ringing of a phone interrupted.

Breaking the stare, all looked around for the source of the noise and all eyes settled upon Nate, who pulled the ringing device out of his pocket.

Without hesitation, he tossed it to Eliot and waved his finger around his ear, looking at Hardison and informing him to let them all hear. He didn't need to tell him to track it.

"Go," Eliot said forcefully into the device.

_"__This is not Nathan Ford," _the man said, clearly fishing to be passed to the mastermind.

"No, it's not, now talk quickly." His resolve and ability to remain calm was astounding.

"Fine," he sounded frustrated but he did not sound surprised. "_I'm sure you're aware of the situation that has developed?" _

"You have my niece and her friend," he stated. Nate, Hardison and Parker stared at him in anticipation while Sophie flicked her eyes towards the rear-view mirror as often as she dared.

"_Correct and we don't wish to harm them," _the steadiness in his voice was encouraging to Eliot. No change in pitch or volume meant he was most likely on the level. "_But we will, if we are not given one simple thing, we shall." _The evenness in his voice here had the opposite effect on Eliot; no staccato meant he was not bluffing.

"And what simple thing would that be?" Eliot asked.

_"__We need you and your team to do a little job for us." _

Eliot looked over at Hardison, wondering if he'd gotten a trace yet. The hacker, with a serious concentrating face shook his head and pulled his hands apart, gesturing for Eliot to draw the call out.

"_We need you to get Dubenich out of prison." _Nate raised his eyebrows in surprise and an unsure look was shared about the team.

"You want us to break him out of prison?" Eliot confirmed.

"_No, no, I said _get, _not break," _he reiterated. "_He doesn't want to be on the run for the rest of his life."_

Eliot looked to the mastermind, who was pensively silent for a moment before nodding towards the hitter.

"Before we do anything, I want proof of life. Now." It was not a request.

_"__We'll call you back," _he replied dryly then hung up the phone.

"We're not seriously going to get Dubenich out of prison are we?" Sophie asked and Parker nodded along in agreement.

"Yes," Nate stated. "We're going to do whatever it takes to get Abby back," he looked towards Eliot, assuring the man of his priorities. Eliot nodded ever so slightly in thanks, but hadn't at all forgotten the fact that Nate was partially responsible for the situation in the first place.

"We'll deal with Dubenich afterwards."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"How do you know they're not just going to kill us," Kyle asked meekly as Abby finished explaining everything to him. What to do, stuff about the team and what was likely going to happen. "How do you know they're not just gonna kill you after they let me go?" There was more concern in his voice this time.

"If they were gonna kill us they'd've done it already," she supplied, shrugging her shoulders and flicking her hair up into a ponytail.

"Right," he replied, taking a deep breath still trying to calm his body. So far he'd had little luck in doing so; his breathing and heart rate were still fast from fear.

"We're gonna be okay," she assured him for not the first time.

"Right." His reply was soft and unconvinced. "Does my dad know? That your… family," he used the word uncertainly, "that they're criminals? About what they do?"

"Yes, though he doesn't ask a lot of questions," Abby replied and Kyle, sitting on the armchair, began to tap and jolt his leg in agitation.

"This is all their fault you know?" he finally declared, pushing himself out of the seat and running his hand through his hair. Abby, sitting cross-legged on the floor, looked at him in both surprise and disgust. She knew the situation was stressful on him but that comment just didn't sit well with her so she shook her head adamantly.

"No," she stated firmly as she stood up. "No, it's not their fault at all. It's whoever took us, that's whose fault it is." He looked unconvinced. "Seriously?" she finally snided when he did not speak. "You have to stop blaming other people for your problems."

"How is that even relevant?" he asked in confusion.

Abby bit her lip, he was right, it was hardly relevant and only partially true. It wasn't that he blamed others for his mistakes or never took responsibility, it was that he avoided putting himself in a situation where he would eventually have to take responsibility. But she hardly cared, she was annoyed now.

"Fine," she muttered. "You're childish, cowardly and have very little respect for women or yourself, but you don't blame others for your problems, so you have that going for you."

"You're still made aren't you?"

"I really liked you Kyle, and you took me for a ride. I live with a bunch of thieves and conmen, I should be able to spot when someone's leading me on!" There wasn't a lot of anger in her voice (she rarely got angry), just disappointment in herself and someone she'd trusted.

"Look, AJ, I feel really bad about what happened, okay but-" he defended but was interrupted by the bolts on the outside of the door snapping open.

Both of the teenagers head's flicked to face it

Through it entered Jo, the man from the bar, carrying with him a phone which he tossed to Abigail after switching it to speaker mode. She glared at him and put it close to her face.

"_Abby?" _Came Eliot's voice over the phone.

"Eliot?" she asked, hope and relief in her voice.

_"__Are you okay?" _There too was relief in his voice.

"Yeah, we're okay," she said quickly. "We're okay." She shot a reassuring glance towards Kyle; as annoyed as she was with him, they were both in this weird, unfortunate boat together. She then heard a slight sigh and huff from the other side; she was sure, being scared for her safety, he was refraining from asking any questions that might be unwanted by her captors. "Are you okay? Is everyone okay?" she asked instead.

_"__Fine,"_ he replied, but there was tension in his voice. He didn't want to tell her about Jimmy. _"Abby, we're gonna come get you okay?"_ he said quickly, knowing the conversation would soon be cut off.

"I know," she replied as Jo walked over "I love you," she said quickly as the man wrenched the phone out of her hand. She lingered at it then stepped away meekly.

"We'll have the boy to you soon. You have until seven pm. "I don't need to tell to what'll happen if you're late," Jo spoke menacingly into the device before abruptly hanging it up.

"Now," his voice was calm, almost soothing in a twisted kind of way, "you," he looked at Kyle, "will come with me. She stays. There will be no discussion."

Fearfully, Kyle swallowed and glanced at Abby who gave him an emotional nod; it was the first time he'd seen her shaken since their capture. He didn't move as Jo walked over, grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the door.

"Abby," Kyle stated, in a reassuring tone.

"Kyle," she squeaked as the door slammed shut.

She finally felt scared at that moment; being alone, it was not a nice feeling.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks again for the reviews<em>

_dsnygal- nope, no foreseeable end in site. As long as people are reading, i'll be writing._

_Also, just so I can start thinking of ideas, any particular episode crossovers you'd all like to see from S5? I've got a couple of things planned for the break but would just like to get your opinions_

_Thanks as always!_

_xx A Lyrical Dreamer_


	46. The Next Time

"_You have until seven pm," _the man said, his choice of words indicating to Eliot that he wasn't military; generally a good thing. But the rest of the situation wasn't. "_I don't need to tell you what'll happen if you're late."_

As the dial tone rung out Eliot gripped the phone with both fists and placed it tensely to his forehead, trying to restrain himself from lashing out.

"Eliot?" Sophie finally asked cautiously. The hitter looked up, fury in his eyes.

"Yeah."

"What do we do?" Parker asked. She stared at the hitter with as much sympathy as she knew how.

"Sophie and I go to Illinois and deal with Dubenich," Nate explained, his cracked and tired voice not hesitating to take command of the situation. "The rest of you go back to Boston, see if you can't find Abby."

"If you can find Abby before then, we shouldn't have to go through with Dubenich," Sophie added from the driver's seat. Eliot looked at Nate who shifted his gaze towards the floor; it wasn't clear what his intentions were, but there was deceit on his face. "We're ten minutes out," Sophie offered as they turned onto their last highway.

"I'll get you flights," Hardison offered quickly.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Bonnano," Eliot stated quickly, jogging up to greet the man who was rushing nervously around his office, instructing various agents to follow various leads.

When he saw Eliot, and the two other thieves trailing nervously behind him (being in a police station was never something they'd voluntarily chose to do), he wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or worried.

"What do you know?" he asked. Eliot was thankful for him once again foregoing the pleasantries.

"They're letting Kyle go."

The detective stopped in his tracks and the relief in his face was easily noted.

"And Abby?" Bonnano asked after a moment of silent thanks. Eliot shifted his weight uncomfortably.

"We're going to steal her back," Parker offered, her arms shrugged around her waist, uncomfortable with her surrounds.

"Do we know who's responsible?" the detective asked, still directing his attention towards Eliot.

"Yes," Eliot replied promptly.

"Do we know what they want?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"No."

"Plausible deniability and all that," Hardison stated, hiking up his book bag.

"Dad!" A voice rung out from the front of the room. Bonnano turned quickly and saw his son run through the crowd of agents. Heads turned as they embraced in an emotional hug; Bonnano looked like he never wanted to let go.

"You have to find Abby," he huffed; he was out of breath and looked emotionally drained. He then turned to Eliot. "You have to find her."

Eliot nodded at the boy, though he was unsure how to react. He didn't exactly have fond feelings towards the kid to start with, mostly because of how he'd treated Abby and now because he had been the one released and not her.

It was a petty and selfish way to think and he knew that, but he also didn't care. He was her responsibility and he would do (and has done) anything he could to save her.

"We will," he said simply instead as Bonnano ushered everyone into his office without moving from the side of his son.

"482 seconds," Kyle spat out, sitting down on the couch next to the glass window of the office which overlooked the rest of the bull pen. His father sat down next to him, Hardison rested on the arm nearest the door, Parker flicked down the venetian blinds and Eliot chose to stand, on an angle but still facing the boy to try and appear less intimidating.

"What?" Hardison asked.

"482 seconds, that's how long it took us to get from where we were being kept to where they dropped me off."

"Where'd they drop you off?" Bonnano asked.

"Uh," he stammered as he struggled to think. "Right on the other side of the bridge, before the science museum," he declared, his thoughts clearing enough to finally state it out loud.

"8 minutes, 2 second window," Parker declared.

"Yeah, and we know they were travelling east," Hardison declared, pulling out his laptop and walking over to Bonnano's desk to set up. Still standing, he lent over his computer and began to type. "That narrows it down."

"Anythin' else you can tell us?" Eliot asked.

Kyle swallowed, his father passed him a glass of water and he began, without any form of logic or flow, to spit out the information Abby had told him to relay; where, as best as he could describe, they'd been held, who had held them and any other pertinent information he could remember.

"That's good," Eliot stated by way of thanks. He then stood up and walked over to Hardison and hovered over his shoulder.

"Seriously man?" Hardison asked, twisting around to glare at the hitter. He held out an open hand, indicating the man to back off.

"What?" Eliot asked groughly.

"Man can't have a little space?"

Eliot rolled his shoulders and took a step back, without breaking his menacing glare.

"Thankyou," Hardison noted and turned back to his computer. He continued typing, straightening up as he discovered something. He directed Eliot's attention to the screen. "So I got it narrowed down to this general area." The image on the screen showed an aerial shot of Boston with the area nearest to the Charles river highlighted in green. "Narrowing it down from there's difficult. I mean, there's no Jo's, Josiah's, John's, Jonathan or anything on any of these buildings."

"Anything under Latimer's name?" Parker offered.

"Nah," Hardison shook his head. "And we don't even know if this Jo guy is an _employee _of Latimer or just some guy he hired of the street."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey," Dubenich declared, strolling comfortably into the Prison's meeting area. He sat nonchalantly on the chair in front of him.

"You missed," Nate stated from the other side of the glass. His voice was serious, sullen and unwavering, as was his stare.

Dubenich shrugged. "Yeah, but this close." He placed his thumb and index finger close together in demonstration. "Plus, I have your girl," he added proudly, letting out a chuckle. "I'd say that's not really a miss at all." He paused and waited for Nate to respond. When the mastermind did not, Dubenich continued. "Ah, what's it been? Three years and five months, four days?" The last two sets of times were added bitterly.

For the first time, Nate shifted from his position and stare, rolling his head back in annoyance.

"Is it special, seeing your very first victim?" Dubenich continued bitterly, pressing for a reaction.

Nate ignored the question. "You are going to regret this," he threatened.

"Well, Nate, all a man has in this world, all he has," he waved his hands about dramatically. "Three things; his business, his possessions and his name. When you take all that away, any man will kill."

Nate squinted his eyes, unsure if that was a threat against Abigail or not. Not that that changed anything, the man had killed his father and threatened his family; he wasn't going easy on him, at all.

"Hey, hey," Dubenich said, smiling as Nate lent forward, a serious, deadly look on his face. "Really man, I, I'm really, I'm not scared of you. But aren't you just a little bit scared of me? After all, I know all your secrets."

"You tell Latimer my secrets? You tell Latimer Eliot's secrets?"

"Well, sure I told him, I mean, after all I need help," he gestured to the prison around him. "And Latimer, well, Jack's always been someone who knows the value of information. And what to do with it."

"What's this about Victor?"

"Well Nate, it's about consequences. You cannot walk this earth playing judge and jury with people's lives. And not suffer consequences."

"You brought this out on yourself," Nate declared raising his voice slightly and drawing his face closer to the plexiglass. "You kidnapped an innocent teenager."

Dubenich shrugged. "Yes, because actions have consequences," he stated once more. "The consequence of that particular one is me being let out."

Nate was unimpressed. "You tried to kill my team."

"Your team? They're my team!" He spat angrily like a tantruming child. "Mine! I put them together and then I handed them to you. I did all the research, I know exactly who they are, I know their techniques, I know their contacts and I know your team better than anyone. I certainly know them better than you."

Dubenich let out a sigh and rubbed his face, as though he was partially ashamed with raising his voice. "I'm sorry," he apologised, though there was no doubt it was insincere. "So, what have you been doing for three years? Playing Robin Hood? Know what I've been doing for three years? I've been preparing for this day."

"Well," Nate breathed. "You'll have to do better."

"Better? Than killing your father?" Dubenich raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Better than kidnapping your little brat? Wow, tough room. But if you're thinking of ratting me out to Latimer, about crossing the line and killing your father, don't bother. He knows, he approved it. Same goes for taking the kid, you think I have the resources alone here to pull that off? That was him too. And why wouldn't he, after all, I made him millions." He paused and the reassessed his wording. "Well, technically, you made him millions," he declared, trying to make Nate feel as guilty as possible for all this.

"Do you remember when I said to you next time I wouldn't be so nice?" Nate asked, leaning even closer into the glass.

"Yeah," Dubenich nodded, now too leaning closely in.

"Okay, welcome to the next time," Nate stated threateningly and gave Dubenich an intense stare before standing up to leave.

_"__And we don't even know if this Jo guy is an _employee_ of Latimer or just some guy he hired of the street," _Nate heard Hardison declare as he exited the prison.

"Eliot?" Nate asked when he was out of earshot of Dubenich.

_"__Yeah," _the hitter replied.

"He's an employee of Latimer's, you should be able to trace him that way. I don't know if it'll help but-"

_"__It'll help,"_ Eliot replied. "_You still carrying out your part of the plan?" _

Nate could sense the concern in his voice; not concern for Abigail (at least not directly at this moment), but concern for Nate. He could sense what he was planning with all this, even if the others couldn't, and he didn't like it.

"Yes, yes I am," he huffed.


	47. Backup

"What'll help?" Bonnano asked from the office, looking up at Eliot.

The hitter turned to face Hardison. "Latimer's men," he declared, knowing it was all he had to say for the hacker, who had heard the conversation to start a search.

Hardison didn't nod, he just let his fingers dance frantically but purposefully across the keys.

"It'll take a few," the hacker declared as a knock came on Bonnano's office door. All eye's flicked over as a uniformed cop opened the door ajar.

"Um, Captain, there's someone here to see you," he mumbled as a tall figure pushed the door wide open. Shelley strode in proudly.

Eliot stood up and shook his hand. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem," he replied, then nodded at the rest of the room's occupants. Bonnano shot him a brief nod while Parker screwed up her face in confusion.

"Why'd you call him?" Parker asked; she seemed betrayed.

"Backup Parker," Eliot replied bluntly and still confused, Parker shrugged.

"So what's the plan?" Shelley asked, crossing his arms in that patented hitter fashion.

Eliot stood up in anticipation to leave. "Remember Bosnia?"

"Yes, I remember Bosnia. We had very little to go on in Bosnia," Shelly replied.

Eliot shrugged. "Exactly," he acknowledged then turned to Hardison. "Let me know when you get an address," he stated and began to leave.

"I want to come!" Kyle declared, standing up with adamant resolve, despite the fact that he was still obviously shaken.

His father looked at him in surprise and Eliot shifted his weight between his legs before going and sitting down in front of the boy.

"Kyle," he began softly, flicking his eyes at the couch, asking him to sit back down. The teenager did so slowly. "You've done a good job and because of you, we're going to get Abigail back. But right now, you need to be here and let us," he looked up at Shelley and Parker, "do our jobs. This is what we do, okay?"

"But I can help," he pleaded, his right leg bouncing nervously "I'm the only one that's been there. I should be able to help recognise the place."

Eliot shook his head. "Tell you what? We need your help recognising the place, Hardison'll set up a video feed so you can help. But the best thing you can do for Abigail, is wait here and keep safe," the hitter spoke as calmly and reassuringly as he could.

"No!" he yelled adamantly as his body grew rigid.

"Kyle," his father scalded. "Let them do their jobs."

"No," he protested again. "I have to help."

The detective shifted in his seat and shot a brief look at the team. Hardison took the hint quickly and ushered a quite confused Parker out the door. Shelley strode out behind them as did Eliot but Bonnano nodded at him to stay.

"Kyle?" Bonnano prompted.

"I, I was stupid and I have to make it right, okay, I have to, I have to."

"And you will," Bonnano reassured and nodded at Eliot to continue. Eliot nodded at him back and, with arms crossed, strode out the door to meet the others, only out of the corner of his eye catching the small 'thankyou' which was mouthed by the Captain.

"Keep me updated Hardison," Eliot declared.

"Got it" Hardison acknowledged as he made his way back into the detective's office. The other three sped towards the exit leaving a still shaken Kyle, a concerned Bonnano and highly motivated Hardison allowed surrounded by a building full of cops.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She'd done her best to keep track of the time. She wasn't sure, but she was guessing she'd been sitting alone for about four hours.

She was bored, hungry, her body was more or less calm and she waited patiently for something to happen. But the more time that passed, the more nervous she got for surely they were approaching seven pm soon.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You got anything Hardison?"

"_Narrowed it down further to two areas," the hacker declared. "East of East Cambridge and the Inner Belt."_

"East Cambridge, Hardison?" Eliot asked, sarcastically and frustratedly. "Really?"

_"__What?"_

"You think they're gonna hold a coupla hostages in a district surrounded by college students?"

Back in Bonnano's office, Hardison shut his mouth and shrugged his shoulders in shame and embarrassment. He should have caught that. It would have saved them precious time. "_Okay, so that leaves the Inner Belt."_

_"_We're pulling up now," Eliot replied as the force from Parker's sharp turn pushing him into the passenger side door.

Parker swerved into a near, but barely big enough parking space in the centre of the district so they could work their way in the quickest amount of time to wherever they needed to go.

Eliot stepped out of the car quickly, ignoring the confused and condescending stares of the passers bay and quickly scanned the buildings. Looking for anything out of the ordinary and anything that could help him identify the building.

First, he used the information that Kyle had given him; he looked for houses and buildings with solid foundations first; those that would not be able to house a basement. Those one's were ruled out.

Then he ruled out the ones with company names on them; for something like this, they'd want something plain, quick and not easily traceable.

Next ruled out where the ones with people walking freely in and out; they wouldn't risk that.

That ruled out every building on this street.

"Just like Bosnia?" Shelley asked, having come to the same conclusion as Eliot.

"Just like Bosnia," he confirmed and fished an earbud out of his pocket and handed it to the younger man.

"You find anything-"

"I will hit you up," he agreed and jogged off east.

"Parker, you're with me," he declared then jolted off at full speed in the opposite direction with Parker following in tow.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Thanks for your still awesome reviews guys._

_And I have a tumblr now! alyricaldreamer is my username. Blog name adoxography. If you're on there, hit me up. _

_Oh, and your suggestions from a week or so ago have definitely been taken under advisement _

_=) A Lyrical Dreamer_


	48. The Rescue

"So what's our plan Nate?" Sophie asked as they sat in their rental car outside of the court house. Through binoculars, Nate stared intently at the court house steps. He wasn't looking for anything in particular and he knew the recon was more or less irrelevant for this job, but he needed something to keep him from looking at Sophie.

Her eyes had a way of twisting his mind. It was a good sort of twisting, the kind that made his mind sit better than it had in a long time. But today he did not need that.

He wanted to feel angry; he wanted to feel vengeful. He didn't want Sophie twisting his thoughts.

"Nate?" she asked once more when he did not respond, placing her hand on his knee.

"We go in," he began, removing the binoculars from his face and shifting to face Sophie better, though he was still sure to only maintain eye contact for a few seconds. "Pose as feds, or lawyers or congressmen or whoever,, convince him to release Dubenich on parole and walk out."

"That simple?" she joked and opened the door.

Nate, still sombre, followed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"_Guys, guys, guys, I got something," _Hardison exclaimed proudly.

Eliot paused his brisk jogging and held out his arm, gesturing Parker, running behind him, to do the same.

"What?" he asked as Parker slammed into his arm.

"_So I checked out all the people who work for Latimer," _he began quickly and enthusiastically, "_under the name Jo, I came up with three possibilities but only one of them works for security-"_

"Hardison!" he cursed at the hacker's incessant rambling.

"_Right," _he replied; he was slightly disappointed, but under the circumstances, he could understand. He could understand how Eliot didn't want to hear how he had found the Jo that had worked for Latimer's security, narrowed down what other men would be working with him and then traced the cash they'd withdrawn and lined it up with the amounts payed for rent in the area.

Which had then been confirmed with the name on the lease; Hank Williams? Please.

_"__Turn around, third left, second building on the right," _he told them instead. _"Bonnano and his guys are already on the way."_

"Got it," he replied and began sprinting again.

"_Eliot I'm right outside," _he heard Shelley declare, and Eliot looked at his watch; they were running out of time. "_You're call boss. Just like Bosnia? I'll go in if you say the word."_

_"_Go," Eliot declared. Shelley didn't hesitate for an instance.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was a medium sized warehouse, with rusted beams and a narrow laneway separating it from the surrounding buildings. Shelley was quick to slip into the lane upon Eliot's instruction quietly and expertly, just as the elder hitter had taught him.

He shrunk around the side until he reached a door and, listening carefully for any noise, he entered cautiously. He found himself in a small storage room which, after clearing expertly, he snuck out of and explored the building quietly until he found a set out downward leading stairs.

Informed with the information from Kyle, he was certain this was the right place to and slipped down quietly, treading toe-heel so as not to make a sound. When he reached the bottom he was not surprised to find the little alcove void of any guards; just like Kyle had said and the soldier reminded himself to praise Eliot for so well informing his kid. Without it, they'd've had very little, probably nothing, to go on.

He opened the large metal door slowly, but despite his efforts the rusting metal still let out a loud creak. The noise made him cringe as he greeted Abigail with a smile.

She looked vastly surprised to see him, of all people.

"Well, if it isn't Goose," she greeted, standing up off the chair and brushing the dust from her behind before she jumped into his arms. She didn't know him very well but the friendly face was a comfort.

"Princess Buttercup," he smiled, the embrace taking him aback for a moment. "So you did watch it?" He pushed her away and poled his head around the corner. "Stick close to me," he added on a separate note and began to move up the stairs. Abby followed closely.

"I may or may not have happened to watch it while it was already on," she confessed as they jogged up the stairs. "Did _you _watch it?" she asked in response. He stuck his head around the corner at the top of the stairs and ducked back quickly, seeing two of the guards moving towards their position.

"No, but everybody knows Princess Buttercup," he whispered then, after gesturing Abby to stay where she was, stepped out into the line of sight of the two men with his hands held out submissively. The soldier smiled smugly and, confused with the look of calm, almost happiness on the man's face, the two thugs exchanged looks before Shelley leapt into action.

He went for their guns first, effortlessly twisting them out of their bulky hands and tossing them over a pile of scrap, out of reach of both him and the assailants.

Then, with similar ease, as they tried to hit for his gut and torso, he sent quick jabs to their ribs and solar plexus. Both clutched at their chests in pain before trying to square back up but it was too late and, in an almost comical motion, Shelley slammed their two heads into each other. They collapsed, unconscious, to the floor.

Shelley stepped back over them, walking over their limbs and looked at his work with a sense of pride on his face. He bent down, pulled out a set of cable ties and flipped the first man over.

"Shame really," Abby noted and Shelley, crouching on the ground looked up and gave her a quizzical look as he zipped the first man's hands behind his back. "I mean about you not seeing the movie," she clarified.

He laughed and stepped over to the second unconscious man and tied him up. He checked the tightness of the restraints, fished their ID's out of their pockets and stood up, wiping his hands on his pants.

"Is Eliot nearby?" she asked hopefully.

Shelley nodded, flicking his eyes up and down the corridor out of habit. "He's on his way."

Abby smiled in relief but it was short-lived, a thick, beefy pair of hands grabbing her shoulder and wrenching her to the side. She fell into the wall, and her hair was strewn across her face and peeking sideways she could see all 200 pounds of the olive-skinned man from the bar bowl Shelley to the ground.

He went for Abby again next as she pushed herself up but, using her smaller size to her advantage (like Eliot had taught her to do), she ducked down and he toppled over her.

He moaned, began to push himself up and Abby squared up just like she'd wanted to do for the last few hours. But before the man could get up and before she could throw an anticipated punch, Shelley booted him in the head and he collapsed onto the ground.

"Time to go," he declared, softly grabbing her arm and pulling her away towards the exit he came through.

"As you wish," she replied, jumping out the door in front of the man and running quickly down the lane way which surrounding the building.

"Hey Eliot," Shelley shouted into the coms, yelling only because he was running and it was easier for him to do.

_"__Yeah," _Eliot replied, yelling for the same reasons.

"I got the package," he declared, reverting back to their old form of communication only out of habit, as they spun around the corner. "We'll meet you at-" he was interrupted by slamming into the hitter, who was slammed into by Parker. "See," Shelley smiled, stepping back, "just like Bosnia."

The hitter ignored the quip and instead ran up to Abigail and embraced her in one of the largest hugs he'd ever given her. As Shelley looked for any movement over their shoulder, Eliot patted her hair and rocked from side to side. He didn't let go, even when Abby released her grip, he just held on tighter.

"Hey Nate," Parker stated into the coms. "We got her."

"_Roger that," _Nate replied.

_"__Oh thank god," _Sophie sighed under her breath.

Sirens ran out from across the area and through the alley they could see a swarm of FBI and state police surround the building. At that point, Shelley relaxed and Eliot released Abigail.

"Did you get them?" Eliot asked, wrapping his arm around his niece.

"The three muscle tied up or unconscious," Shelley declared, nodding at Abigail, giving her credit for the last one.

"And the head guy?"

Shelley shook his head. "No sign of him."

Eliot cursed under his breath, but he let it go. "That's okay," he declared. "Don't matter." And it didn't matter, at least not right now. Now that they had Abby back, there was no reason to release Dubenich from prison and they could go after Latimer (and his security) like they would any other job.

"Eliot?" Abby murmured, looking up her uncle. "You're hurting my arm."

"Sorry." He released his grip slightly and they turned to slowly back to walk towards the car. Parker joined in, wrapping her arm around Abby's shoulder and marching, in her usual enthusiastic, non-normal manner alongside the other two.

"We're glad you're back," the thief said merrily. "Are you guys going to head back to Boston?" she asked Sophie.

"Yeah, so we can take this asshole down?" Eliot added.

"_I'm not sure," _came Sophie's confused reply.

\

"Nate," Sophie declared as the mastermind walked towards the judge's office. Despite hearing the news and knowing that they no longer needed to go ahead with the plan in order to keep Abby safe, he kept marching. "Nate, she's safe. Dubenich can _stay_ in prison."

"I know," he replied in a gravelly tone, but still he did not break his stride.

"Nate," Sophie stated more firmly. "I know what you're thinking of doing and don't." Every word was carefully articulated, indicating her irritation and concern.

"I know what I'm doing Sophie," he dismissed and walked straight into the judge's office. She had to force herself from not screaming out in anger.

XXXXXXXXXX

_Sorry for the delay, crappy week. Car troubles on numerous __occasions__, both stupid things which I could have avoided, but hey, it's still running so I've got that going for me._

_Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter and I hope you're all doing well! Excited for Christmas I hope_

_xx A Lyrical Dreamer_


	49. The Debrief

"Sophie?" Eliot asked, back at the bar an hour later. Abby, freshly showered and changed into a set of Sophie's clothes stolen from Nate's wardrobe, sat with a soda in one of the booths with Parker, while Eliot sat next to Hardison and Shelley, awaiting on word from Sophie or Nate.

"_Nate just got Dubenich released?" _she almost couldn't believe what she was saying.

Eliot rubbed his face in concern. It didn't surprise him and he'd honestly expected it, but it annoyed him. Annoyed him that he was putting his own selfish motives ahead of the team. Annoyed that he wasn't thinking about the consequences for the team; for the family.

"_We'll be back some time in the middle of the night," _the grifter continued morbidly.

"You know Nate's gonna go off the rails on this one?" he asked then pause to correct himself. "You know Nate _is _going off the rails on this one" the hitter continued, not caring that Nate could hear him.

"_I know." _Her teeth were gritted as she spoke. "_We'll deal with it though, we always do."_

_"_Yeah, he better," he cursed then left Sophie to deal with Nate.

"Why the hell would he-"

"Revenge Hardison," Eliot replied, interrupting the hacker. "Care to stick around for a few days? I may need you," he asked, turning to Shelley on the other side of him.

"Always sir," Shelley replied, sculling back a shot ouzo; a drink he only drunk upon the conclusion of a successful job.

"You're sure?"

"You kidding me?" he laughed rhetorically. "This is one of the breeziest jobs I've ever worked on."

"Thanks," Eliot tipped his drink towards the man. "Just until we sort this stuff out."

Shelley nodded and turned back to his drink as Eliot spun out of his chair and walked towards his teenager. Hardison followed, sticking to Eliot's shoulder.

"You still think we need a sitter?" the hacker asked and Eliot raised his brow, surprised Hardison didn't see the problem.

"Nate's off his rails on this one. He just let a dangerous man, _voluntarily_ out of prison, I'm just doin' what I have to Hardison," he explained, the tone of his voice almost passive aggressive.

Hardison halted in his place and shrugged, realising the hitter was right.

"So with a Glen-Reider 227 model, you have to drill in directly next to the tumblers but not with the 228, otherwise you'll crack the glass and the whole thing," Parker's eyes lit up creepily, she made a whooshing sound flared her hands up like fire.

Abby nodded, trying to look enthused. But really she was exhausted, not too shaken or emotionally distraught but exhausted.

"Parker, can I have a second?" Eliot asked. The thief nodded but remained where she was, just scooting over slightly so Eliot could fit in beside her. "Alone?" he clarified.

"Oh, uh, sure," Parker murmured and slid swiftly out of the seat. Eliot sat down back down in her seat.

"How are you doing?" he asked Abby softly. She took a moment to think but then nodded slowly.

"I think I'm okay," she informed him.

"You don't have to be okay Abs, no one's expecting you to be okay." His words were soft and reassuring.

"I know," she agreed, looking directly at him. "But I think I _am_ okay, not perfect, but I always knew I'd be okay, you know? It wasn't traumatizing El because I knew you'd come for me and they never hurt me. I _am _okay, in every sense of the word," she reassured him and he sighed, wondering if this that denial stage everyone talked about and if she was going to break down in a couple of days. Something he didn't want because normally, the delayed reaction ended up being worse than any sort of immediate fall out.

But the truth was, she was okay. Not great, but not bad either. Sure, she'd been a little scared, but not enough to affect her. She had faith in the team, faith in her uncle, to always be there for her, just like he'd promised. And he had come through, just like he promised.

But still, Eliot looked unconvinced.

"Eliot, trust me on this okay?" she pleaded and he nodded slowly, if only to appease her. "So what happens now?"

He hesitated for a moment, wondering whether to tell her everything or not. Then he remembered their deal. "You know how you were taken so we'd get that guy Dubenich outta prison?" Abby nodded. "Well, we got to you before the deadline on that was up, but Nate went ahead with the deal anyway. Now Dubenich is outta prison and we have to, well, do what we do."

"Why would Nate do that?"

"He had Nate's father killed," he explained softly and for the first time, Abby's stomach lurched. She'd been held by the same people that had killed Nate's father. That thought really terrified her.

"Right," she replied blankly.

"So you're gonna go home with Shelley tonight and, um, make sure you pack up everything you need; everything important."

Her mouth opened slightly in surprise at the inference; the inference that they were not coming back. But she closed it quickly and let a genuine smile slip onto her face. "As long as we're all together right?" she confirmed as the bell on the front door gave a jingle.

"Sure," he smiled back and nodded towards the door, pushing Abby's attention over to the most recent occupant.

She flicked her head over her shoulder and saw Kyle standing awkwardly in the middle of the room and his father, already sitting at the bar and engaged in an animated conversation with Shelley, Parker and Hardison.

"Gimme a sec," she smiled at Eliot then slid out of her seat and went to stand in front of the uncomfortable teenager. "Hey," she greeted plainly.

"Hey," he stammered back.

"How are you doing?"

Kyle shrugged. "Okay, I guess. How about you?" There was true concern in his voice.

"I think I'm doing well," she replied, then stood silent; the situation was uncomfortable.

"Um, Abby, I wanted to say a couple of things," Kyle said quickly, as though he'd been gathering up the courage to speak.

Abby let out a deep breath, not sure if she wanted to hear these things or not.

"I wanted to say thanks, for being so cool and keeping me calm and getting us out. I wouldn't have been able to do that without you," he said then paused. The second one seemed harder for him to start. "And I wanted to say sorry for being such an ass to you. You're right, I am a coward and I don't treat people, I didn't treat you like I should have. I _am _sorry."

Now it was Abby's turn to shrug, the whole thing seemed trivial now but she flicked her eyes down to the floor, unsure of what to say. "Yeah, well, I suppose a sorry's okay but um, that doesn't change _anything _between us." Kyle nodded knowingly. "Friends?" she asked, adding the last bit as an afterthought.

"Friends," Kyle agreed, smiling in thanks.

"Sweetheart, you and Shelley gotta get going," Eliot prompted having walked over from the booth.

"Right," Abby remembered. "Thanks Kyle," she smiled.

"No, thankyou, I coulda never gotten out of there, or done any of this without you."

She nodded in thanks at his heartfelt appreciation and left him to make his exit. Then she turned to Shelley.

"Everything okay?" Eliot asked, nodding at Kyle as the door shut behind him.

"Yeah, I think we're okay," she nodded, still looking towards the door. "Shall we?" she asked, perking up and turning towards Shelley.

Shelley nodded and pushed himself out of the bar stool. "Where are we going?"

"Our place, Abby knows," Eliot informed him, then lent over and gave Abby another long hug; he was still reluctant to let go and Abby was certain that this whole ordeal had gotten to him more than it had her.

"I'll see you soon?" she asked, one of his arms still wrapped around her.

"You bet," he replied.

"Is, umm, Nate and everything gonna be okay?" she asked quietly and Shelley, sensing a family moment, snuck away to wait by the door.

"We'll fix it," he assured, appreciating the fact that she was more concerned about Nate and the job, than the fact that she'd been kidnapped, and repeating Sophie's (hopefully) wise words. "We always do."

"Okay," she replied, trusting his judgement then giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading out the door.


	50. Batman and Pancakes

Out of habit, Shelley entered the apartment first, placing the bag of groceries he'd bought on the counter and expertly clearing the apartment of any potential threats. Abby, as per his instructions, had locked the door behind them and waited patiently for Shelley to return and inform her the place was safe.

She didn't expect it not to be but, then again, she didn't expect him not to take his job seriously.

"All clear," he declared, stepping back into the room.

"So," Abby said, swinging off the kitchen bar as Shelley stocked away the food.

"So?" he asked in response.

"So, we're stuck inside for a few days. What do we do?"

Shelley nodded towards her backpack, which she had brought back home from the bar. "School work?" was his unfavourable suggestion.

Abby snorted a laugh. "So that's three hours down," she stated rather than moaning and rolling her eyes; school work, at the moment seemed trivial. "Besides, I can do that tomorrow. How about pancakes?

Shelley carefully contemplated for a moment, then shrugged. "I'll take a stack," he declared then made himself comfortable on the bar stool.

Abby nodded and gathered the ingredients for the crepes.

"So are you still in the service or are you 'retired'?" she asked, still holding the mixing spoon and dripping batter on the bench while she emphasised with her fingers.

"I'm not at liberty to say," he replied, his tone and face serious.

Any normal person would have laughed but Abby did not; it was easy for her to tell that Shelley was being serious and _actually _wasn't allowed to say as opposed to just playing to the stereotype.

"Fair enough," she shrugged, pouring the first batch of pancakes onto the pan.

"What do you do for fun then?" She asked, trying to make polite conversation. Even if the answer was short and nondescript again, it was better than the awkward silence.

"Don't have time for fun," he declared without a beat.

Abby gave him a quizzical look. "_Everyone _has time to do something fun," she pressed.

Obliging her, he pondered for a moment, then let out a small chuckle.

"Care to share?"

"Gardening," he nodded, smiling.

"Seriously?" she confirmed. "Like fruit and veg, or flowers."

He chucked again. "Flowers," he confirmed and, this time, Abby let out a small laugh. "What? A man can't enjoy spending time in the garden?" he defended, crossing his arms.

Abby shrugged. "Eliot likes cooking, so I suppose not."

It was another five minutes before a large stack of steaming pancakes were ready and, after retrieving the syrup from the pantry, she placed them down on the coffee table with two plates.

"How do you feel about a movie?" she questioned, plonking herself comfortably down on the couch.

"You know what movie you should watch?" Shelley suggested

"Don't say Top Gun, 'cause I've already watched it," she replied quickly, remembering their conversation from the last time they had met. "How about the Princess Bride?" she retorted and Shelley laughed. "Fine, how about the latest Batman?"

"I can live with that," he shrugged, then sat down on the arm chair nearest to the door.

They were an hour through the film before Abigail fell asleep, too exhausted to stay awake any longer. Shelley continued watching the film, remaining perfectly alert and letting her sleep calmly.

She only stirred when the movie came to an end, the change from flickering light to pitch black enough to awaken her.

"What happened?" she moaned, stretching herself out as she woke up a little more.

"Batman died," he replied bluntly. He straightened up in the chair and placed down his glass of soda, after all, he couldn't drink on the job.

"Very funny," she quipped. Shelley just shook his head, it didn't matter to him if she believed her or not.

"You should go to bed," he declared, jumping up out of the stairs and picking up the empty plates off the coffee table.

"You're here to guard, not babysit," Abby reminded him, a tired smile on her face.

"Suit yourself. Are you doing okay?" he asked, almost as an afterthought.

Abby sighed, completely sick of being asked that question; it only made her feel worse that she didn't feel concerned.

"I'm more concerned about Nate," she dodged, shifting so she was kneeling up and facing the back of the couch with her hands crossed and chin resting on the crook of her arm so she could better see him in the kitchen.

Shelley laughed through his nose as he stuffed the plates into the dishwasher. "You're a good kid your highness." He was sincere in his comment; he appreciated the fact that she was so concerned for someone else in spite of everything.

"Thanks," she murmured, almost silently.

"But are you sure you're okay? He asked again and Abby glared at him, now sure that Eliot had told him to ask. "It gets annoying having people ask you that all the time doesn't it?"

"Kinda, yeah," she admitted. "Does it ever stop?"

Shelly stood still and lent forward on the kitchen bench. "No, not so long as you got people you care about around you, and you do." His voice was soft and kind. "And one time," he continued more solemnly, "you might not be okay and you'll be thankful they asked."

She looked down at the floor intensely, brooding for a moment and contemplating what he'd said. "The truth is, I don't know if I'm okay," she admitted. Shelley rubbed his nose then placed his hands back on the bench. He was still as he listened. "I was until Eliot told me about how they killed Nate's dad," her voice wavered for a moment. "I was absolutely certain that they, that Eliot would get me out. _So_ certain that I wasn't scared, not really. Then Eliot told me what happened and I realise how close I was to-"

"It's not good to think like that," Shelley quickly interrupted. "You start going down that road you never stop. The important thing is that you're here, for a reason. Plus, Eliot would tear down countries to get to you; him and the others would have never let anything happen to you."

"But what if-"

He interjected quickly once more. "'What if's' are question's that no one can answer. Latimer's men didn't hurt you, we got you out, you're here. Those are the things that are important." He was stern but kind in his explanation. It made sense to her, and eased her emotions slightly, though not completely.

"Is all this knowledge from experience?" she asked, trying to shift the focus of the conversation away from her.

He smiled and clapped his hands together pointlessly. It was clear he didn't want to talk about it just as much as she didn't want to; he seemed private like that.

"Well," she conceded, standing up off the couch and wrapping her oversized jacket tighter around her chest, the long sleeves falling over her hands. She wasn't sure where she had picked it up, it might have been Eliot's, Nate's or even Shelley's, but it was cosy and comforting. "I'm going to bed. The couch is pretty comfy and there's a couple of blankets in the ottoman over there." She nodded towards the small footstall near the window which overlooked the park.

"Won't need it," he shook his head. "I'll be right out here if you need anything."

"Thanks Shelley, for everything," she thanked then moved slowly to her bedroom for a well-deserved rest.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Almost immediately after Shelley had left with Abigail, Eliot had turned to Parker and Hardison, and crossed his arms; an indication that it was time for them to move out.

"Security intel and schematics of Latimer's building," Hardison declared, pulling up the info on his laptop having anticipated what was coming.

"Entry points here and here," Parker stated, pointing to two separate doorways on the plans; one public the other much less so. "We still have to clock their security though."

"If we head out now we can get a rough idea," Eliot replied and the others nodded and moved silently to the already packed and prepared van. Each silently praised their collective efficiency as they moved out.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Nate dragged himself morbidly into his apartment, leaving the door wide open and made straight for the stash of liquor he kept in his desk. He poured himself a large glass, sculled it a smooth satisfying gulp. Then he poured himself another, picked up the decanter and swaggered down to the couch.

Sophie, with heels clacking and breath huffing, followed inside, slamming the door behind her and watching in annoyance as the man began to drink himself into a stupor.

"Nate?" she asked for not the first time since they'd left Illinois, only this time, there was increased animosity in her voice.

And, for not the first time, he did not reply.

"Nate?" She chucked her coat and bag angrily on the kitchen bench with a swing of her wrist.

Nate sunk further back into the chair, toying with the glass in his hand.

"Nate, _what the hell _are you thinking? Letting Dubenich go?"

"I was thinking," he began, much to Sophie's surprise. "That we can't get Dubenich from prison, so we have to get him out here."

"Why do we have to get him Nate?" the grifter asked in response, crossing her arms and walking closer over to the mourning man.

Nate lifted his head and perked his brow, looking at her directly the first time since they'd left. "He killed my father, went after Abigail, _in jail_. If he can do that then we have to get to him," he explained simply.

Sophie, out of surprise she had not realised this earlier lent back in her heels and swayed for a moment. Then she sternly straightened up her posture. "That doesn't make it right Nate."

"You're right," he agreed. "It doesn't." He then, with more energy than he'd shown that he had, jumped up and turned on the plasma screens as he prepared to gather intel; he needed to be active, get something done. He needed to make a plan, however sinister or unapproved it might be.

Sophie meanwhile, watched on with concern as the mess in front of her steadily grew and the darkness faded away.

XXXXXXXX

_Thanks always for your awesomeness friends! _

_Obviously, many more stories to come, in the mean time I just wanted to wish you all a very Merry Christmas! Be loving to your friends, family and all those you come to meet. Most of all, be joyful!  
>XX<em>


	51. The Last Dam Job

Walking back into the apartment the team were taken aback by the sheer mess that Nate had left strewn about the apartment in just a matter of hours. The chaos was extraordinary, even for Nate's standards.

The team flicked their eyes up towards Sophie, pouring a mug of coffee into what must have been the only clean cup that Nate had left her. Sophie never drank coffee; an indication, along with the exasperated look on her face, as to how tired she must have been.

She flicked her head over to Nate, who was sprawled out on one of the cots brought in from the neighbouring room. He snapped awake, as if an epiphany had suddenly come to him in his drunken sleep.

"Whoa, ah, Verd Agra," he declared, pulling himself off the couch. The smell of alcohol was pungent in the air. "It all started with Verd Agra guys."

"Was that the job with the potato?" Hardison whispered to Parker as he paused from marvelling at the extent of Nate's mess.

"Mhm. I liked that potato," the thief replied.

"For three years, Victor Dubenich, from prison, has been telling Jack Latimer who we were gonna hit and when." Nate wondered about his stage in front of the plasmas as he spoke, it made him seem disjointed and distracted and didn't at all instil any confidence in anyone, least of all Eliot. "And every time, he has profited from our work. Except once, when he saved the CEO of Verd Agra. The one that we took down. Why?" He waited for the others to answer.

"'Cause he needed somebody in power at the company, somebody in his pocket," Eliot deduced, with a slight amount of bitterness in his voice.

"These are the land tracts that Verd Agra sold to Latimer." Nate pointed to the map on the glass board, using his hands for pointed emphasis. "_With _the CEO of Verd Agra's approval."

"What does he want with all that land?" Hardison asked, now sitting down at one of the chairs on the upper landing.

"It's not the land," Eliot informed him. "It's what's underneath; the water rights. Land without water is just dirt."

"We have thousands of acres of private property all seized from locals," Nate continued and it wasn't lost on Eliot or Sophie how quickly he skimmed over who the victims were. They both knew this wasn't about justice for him. "Latimer, he controls the water facilities, the pipelines; the dams. Our key right now, is Bellington Dam." He walked over to the glass board on the other side of the screens. "That's what he wanted the patent for because he wants to build that water filter on this dam." Sophie stood up from her seat in the back of the room and began walking towards the front, carefully eyeing at the information in front of her. She stood next to Parker, strengthening the front of the team who all knew Nate was going too far. "So this is it," Nate continued. "This right here, this is our job."

Eliot shook his head, gritted his teeth in frustration and turned to walk to the back of the room, breaking Sophie's attempt at a physical representation of a united front. "No, this, we can't do this job, alright? We couldn't even do a simple recon." He sat down on the step, indicating his disinterest. "He's got the upper hand and he's putting lives at risk."

"Yeah, and Dubenich already warned him about us," Parker added and Sophie looked at her in surprise as she too turned and sat down on the step not too far from Eliot.

"We're talking advanced biometrics, facial recognition," the hacker elaborated as Sophie followed Parker. "They even countered my software. I mean, spanked it."

"We need back up," Nate said simply, the cogs turning in his mind.

"He's been planning this for three years," Sophie pointed out. "He's gonna know every friend, everyone in the game."

"Anyone we can trust or we could call," Hardison added.

"So," Nate said as he sat down on the steps next to the team. "We find someone who is not a friend; someone's who's not in the game, someone we do not trust," he stated, looking at each in turn. "That's what we do."

"Let's get to it then," Hardison said as he stood up, Parker, Sophie and Eliot following suite.

"Eliot, can I talk with you for a sec?" Nate said to the hitter who slowly turned around, crossing his arms.

For a moment, the hitter thought Nate was going to apologise and explain with some twisted logic why'd he'd gone through with letting Dubenich go free.

But he wasn't really surprised when the mastermind began with something that was in no way an apology.

"Do you think the bar and apartments are safe?"

Eliot covered the urge to cough with a steady shake of the head. "We've already been breached, no telling if they'll do it again. And if he knows this, he likely knows our homes."

"What about safe houses?"

"I wouldn't risk it."

"So what do you suggest?"

"Find somewhere where Dubenich can't find us. We, including Abby," he made sure to make that part clear, "all stay there while we set this thing up and see it through. You know the city better than I do though, got any place in mind?"

"I've got a few ideas," Nate shrugged. "You planning on using Shelley for the job?"

Eliot shook his head. "No, we need people Dubenich won't expect and seeing he knows so much about us, he knows that I trained Shelley and, other than one other person, he'd be the first I'd call."

"What about Mikel from that job with Starke?"

Eliot had a moment of silent reminiscing as actually considered calling the female hitter for a moment. Then the nostalgia left when he realised how the last night they'd spent together had ended.

"That's probably not a good idea," he confessed. "I've got someone else in mind, but they're overseas. I'll leave tonight to go get him. Shelley's agreed to stay and keep an eye on things for now."

"Don't trust us?" Nate asked, partially as a joke but Eliot remained solemn.

"You're not thinking straight on this one Nate," Eliot his voice steady but still terrifying. "You're taking unnecessary risks and I don't know what you have planned, but don't screw up, the job or this," he gestured to the apartment and all it represented around him. "We've all got too much at stake."

"You think I don't, uh, know that?" Nate asked smugly.

"You put _her _life in danger, I don't know what you're thinking! But you better sort yourself out Nate; get your priorities straight!" The hitter had to restrain himself from lashing out further and followed the rest of the team out the door, not waiting to see Nate's response. When he shut the door behind him, he was surprised to see the rest of the team waiting in the hall for him; they looked at him for elaboration and he raised his eyebrow in question.

"So what's the plan with Nate and stuff?" Parker asked.

"We watch him," Sophie declared. "Carefully."

"And besides, he's doing this, with or without us," Eliot added. Hardison looked at him curiously. "You saw how dammed determined he was, lettin' Dubenich out of prison? He's got tunnel vision and he wants revenge," he exclaimed in an angry whisper, his nostril's flaring.

"But you don't?" Parker asked. Her question was cautiously sincere and Hardison gave him a look, wondering the same thing. Wondering why he didn't want to hurt the man that had Abigail kidnapped.

"I want him taken down Parker, not out."

"Why not?"

"Because right now, I have other priorities," he hissed. "Priorities like keeping this team safe."

"Okay, so we run with it?" Hardison questioned, accepting Eliot's answer and moving swiftly onwards.

"Mhm," Sophie agreed. "And make sure things don't go too haywire."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Hope you all had a very merry Christmas.  
>and Happy 2015 to you all. I have a feeling it's going to be a good one. <em>

_Just a short little chapter, hope you all enjoyed. _

_xx A Lyrical Dreamer_


	52. The Babysitter

"I have to go out," Abby exclaimed as, dressed in jeans and a light coat, Abby made her way to the front door to leave. Shelley looked almost stunned and definitely confused. His manner had changed almost instantaneously having switched from being relatively relaxed (as relaxed as any hitter can be when they're on guard duty) to completely serious and solemn; too solemn, Abby thought, for someone as young as he was.

"Where?"

"I need to give my friend our assignment," she held up a rolled up power in her hand, directing Shelley's attention towards it. Eliot had checked in last night and informed them that he was going 'away' to pick up more back up and she had kept herself 'entertained' with completing the group assignment from a few days before.

"I'm sorry, no," he apologised but there was a lack of regret in his voice. Instead it was stern and determined. "You don't know how to protect yourself properly and you don't know how to stay clear of danger," he explained further, prompted by her unimpressed look.

"Then teach me," she appealed, placing her hands on her hips defiantly.

"N-"

"No, Shelley, teach me," she pleaded, with more emotion in her voice this time. "I want to know how to stay safe."

Shelley sighed and rubbed his face; it was not the first time he'd made this gesture and, by know, Abby had figured out he made it when he was about to do something which made him uncomfortable. He knew what she was trying to do, trying to figure out a way to gain some control out of her more than peculiar life. She was trying to make sure that what happened the other day didn't happen again; to make sure she could rely on herself. Shelley, in his opinion, believed this to be a good idea, both for her own safety and morale.

"You want to learn, okay that's fine," he agreed softly, "but you stick close to me and do what I say, agreed?"

"As you wish," she smiled and waited patiently as the soldier pulled on a sweater. Finally he pulled on a scarf and opened the door for the teen to exit.

"Just for the record, I'm against this," he declared, yelling over his shoulder as she set the immensely complicated alarm.

"What? Don't think you're good enough to protect me?" she toyed waiting in the hall with her arms crossed and foot up against the wall.

"Damn straight I'm good enough to protect you, but the best way for me to do that, is to prevent anything from happening," he locked the door behind them and Abby turned to walk towards the elevator.

"What are you doing?" Shelley asked in disbelief.

"Taking the elevator?" Abby replied, marginally confused.

"Has Eliot taught you nothing?"

"Self-defence," she stated proudly. "How to make a really good Osso Bucco, Spanish," she continued, smiling. "Taught me what to do in that warehouse." She added that last one with a timid sense of pride.

"He does make a damn good Osso Bucco," he agreed on the side, "and yes, you did do good in that warehouse, but that's not the point." He sighed and rubbed his face. "It's better if you can prevent it all together, trust me. We take the stairs," he grabbed her shoulders and lightly turned her towards the stairs.

"Okay, but why?" she questioned curiously.

"Elevators are enclosed spaces, perfect for ambushes. They can be stopped from the outside and then you're trapped. Stairs, on the other hand, have less of that.. You have more control and," he paused and smiled as he opened the door to the flight of stairs, "you get way better exercise this way."

She rolled her eyes but obliged him and followed down the stairs, letting him walk in front of her.

"Seriously? Eliot hasn't taught you this stuff?" he questioned, jogging down the stairs at a brisk pace, his arms bent and swinging at his chest.

"Some of it," she shrugged, meeting his gait and running her hand along the banister.

"It's sloppy," he replied without turning back and without apology.

The teenager shrugged again. "I think he's just trying to keep me out of his world," her response was quiet, meek and almost to herself.

"How's that working out?" he asked again.

"They really drilled it into you at the academy didn't they?" she joked.

"That's why I'm still alive," he said, completely serious.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As they made their way to Abby's friend's house, Shelley, straight faced, lectured at her how to stay alive.

As they entered the car he told her how to check if it had been tampered with. As they drove, he told her how to pick up, and lose, rotating tails. As they walked from the car to the apartment he told her how to avoid sniper fire by walking as close as possible, and by putting as much noise as possible, between her and any sniper nests. He told her how to spot the danger in a crowd and, all in all, delivered more safety information than was necessary for anyone outside of the CIA or KGB. And she was given no choice in the matter.

They finally made it back to the condo without incidence. "See?" Abby exclaimed, carelessly tossing her jacket onto a chair. "We're still alive!" There was playfulness in voice but it was not reciprocated by Shelley. Instead he was solemn and serious.

"You want to know why I'm so OCD about this?" he asked rhetorically. "Because, before I knew your uncle, I lost my whole regiment because I was naive. And now, I'll be damned if I let that happen to someone else."

Any playfulness had disappeared from Abby's face as she recognised the pain and emotion he was trying to hide. "I'm sorry," she replied as she nodded solemnly. Her apology was sincere, she felt sorry for the man; he seemed lonely. "What was Eliot like as a commander?" she asked, trying to break the ice in any way that she could.

"He was as tough as hell," Shelley replied. "But he was the best damn mentor I ever had and one of the only people I'd ever trust to have my back. You're lucky to have him.

"I know," she smiled and, suddenly, the sombre mood was interrupted by Shelley's phone ringing.

"What's the go?" he asked, swiftly pulling the phone to his ear.

"_How's everything going?" _Eliot asked. The bustling of an airport rung out in the background.

"Good. Everything's looking clean so far. Just got back from dropping an, uh, project off at a friend's, I dunno?" he explained but then began to edge away out of earshot of the teen. "But look Eliot, I know it's not really my place and you're trying to keep her out of everything," he heard Eliot growl over the phone, "but I really think you should invest more in her knowing what to do." Eliot growled again.

"_Drop it Shelley-"_

"Look, Commander, she did good with that whole getting out of there thing, but you can't hide her from this. You and I both know that's not how it works."

"_Yo Eliot, let's go" _Shelley heard a second voice yell in the background. Shelley was sure that Eliot was swatting the man off with his arm.

"_I'll take it… under advisement," _he uttered begrudgingly, then proceeded to instruct Shelley and what to do next. "_And thanks for this Shelley."_

He slid the phone back into his pocket and walked into the other room. Abby looked up at him with questioning eyes.

"That," he began, "was your uncle. He wants you back at an… interesting location so they can start up their con."

"What do you mean by interesting?" she questioned in response.


	53. More Back Up

"Well this _is_ certainly, um, interesting," Abby exclaimed, turning in a full circle, her eyes gazing up at the ceiling of the cave. Its enormity was spectacular.

"It's a good spot," Shelley admired, placing down the pair of Abby's bags he was holding. Strategically, it was ideal. There were several tunnels and escape routes which led out to different areas of the city, it was out of the way, sizeable, defendable and perfectly strategic.

Abby placed down her bags beside the others and continued to ogle wondrously at the space.

"It's bizarre," she disagreed. "How does he even find these things?"

"I know a guy," Nate exclaimed from behind them, startling Abby, who jumped and then turned to face him.

Shelley turned more calmly and nodded a greeting at the mastermind.

"Shelley," Nate greeted in return. "Thanks for this."

"I'm just doing an old friend a favour," he dismissed, standing on ceremony, like he was still in the army with his hands poised strongly behind his back and feet slightly apart. "You're sure you don't me to stay and help out?"

"Eliot thinks it'd be a bad idea," the mastermind replied, with little emotion in his voice; he was still brooding over the death of his father and distracted with thoughts of revenge.

"I'll be on my way then," he bowed then turned to Abby. "Remember what I told you please?"

She nodded in thanks to his security advice. "Only if you watch the Princess Bride."

He smiled, nodded at Nate then made his swift exit. Abby held her finger up at Nate, indicating she'd be back then ran off after Shelley. "Wait," she shouted out and he spun around quickly. She jumped onto him, giving him a large appreciative hug. "Thankyou Shelley, I mean it," she informed him gratefully, releasing his shoulders.

"I was just doing my job," he replied politely.

She cocked and shook her head. "No, it was more than that, so thankyou," she repeated and he nodded sincerely then turned to leave. Abby smiled, ran her hands through her hair and took another look at the room. "Seriously, how did you find this place?" she grinned, turning back to Nate.

"My father," he replied, spilling out his files and papers onto the fold out desk set out in front of the display of projectors. "The Irish Mob used to use the tunnels for transporting goods and hiding from the cops."

She squinted her eyes at him. "You had a strange childhood didn't you?"

"No stranger than yours," he quipped then looked confusedly up at Abby as she grabbed a set of car keys off the table and walked towards an exit.

"Uh, where are you going?" Sophie questioned coming in from an entrance on the other side of the room. Abby jumped slightly in surprise.

"I left some stuff at Nate's, I was gonna go pick it up," she informed the grifter, who sighed.

"You couldn't do it with Shelley?" There was concern and worry in her voice.

"I just thought of it now," she shrugged. "Nate reminded me, the photo album Eliot gave me's there."

Sophie still seemed reluctant; the last thing she wanted was a repeat of a few days earlier and she was sure Eliot would kill her if anything else happened to her. But then, looking at the girl, she could tell that, even after just two nights, she was sick of being confined.

"Fine," Sophie conceded. "By stay safe please."

"Of course."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Is that the last of it?" Quinn asked as they packed up the last box from Nate's apartment into the back of the van.

"That's everything?" Eliot confirmed.

"You know, moving furniture is not in my job description," the guest hitter complained.

"Six figures, Quinn," Eliot prompted.

"And a favour." He was sure to remind Eliot of that one; it wasn't everyday any hitter owed another a favour. It was something he didn't want to lose.

"And a favour," he confirmed. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, just gotta go grab my jacket from upstairs," he said as he ran back inside and made his way back to Nate's apartment.

Opening the door he was surprised to see a young women, rummaging through papers in the bench; this wasn't right. Quinn knew the Leverage crew and, knowing this wasn't one of them, sprang into action, grabbing the intruder in a choke hold.

The sudden force around Abby's neck had caught her by surprise and it took her a few precious seconds to get her head into the moment before she finally made a move on her mystery attacker.

She twisted her hips, manoeuvring them to his side which gave her enough mobility to elbow him in the solar plexus with just enough force for him to, ever so slightly, release his grip enabling her to break free of his hold.

"Again? Seriously?" she coughed under her breath.

The blow to the shoulder was a surprise; whoever this person was, they certainly knew how to through a punch. He wasn't worried though; after all, Quinn had taken down Eliot Spencer before. How much damage could a young woman do?

After the girl had broken free of his grip she had sent out a kick to his ribs; a kick which he had deflected as he ducked to one side. Then as she was landing and muttering something he could not hear and knowing she would be slightly off balance, no matter how well she had been trained, he shoved her slightly, and then grabbed her wrist, twisting it behind her back.

The kick hadn't landed, now her hand was twisted behind her back and his grip was strong. He pushed her face down into the bench as he further, and painfully, twisted her arm up her back. She breathed for a moment, and, as she felt his grip loosen with overconfidence, she twisted back around and threw a swift kick to his stomach. The man fell backwards, tripping over the step behind him and she smiled.

The blow to his stomach had forced him to stumble backwards and he tripped over the steps. The girl had the nerve to grin at him. He had been going easy on her so far but now that she had had the nerve to grin, he wasn't playing nice any more. He ran forward throwing two quick punches.

Apparently, the training with Eliot and talks from Shelley over the last day or so had been well worth it; she didn't even have to think to block the two quick blows he threw at her. "Who the hell are you?" she yelled, overly frustrated with having to go through this again.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he yelled back as he easily blocked the two punches the girl threw in return. Admittedly, she was a fairly decent fighter and could definitely hold her own against any John or Harry, but against a trained killer, she would never have much luck. Obviously she had had some training, but not enough for her to be dangerous to Quinn.

"Is Dubenich really gonna go down this path again?" She huffed as she slid over the bench. The second he had engaged her she had realised she needed to put distance between her and her attacker; he was too good for her, and they both knew it.

"Dubenich?" Quinn questioned. "I don't work for Dubenich," he said as he paused and walked around the bench to block the door. He could see her thinking, looking for a way out.

"Latimer then?" she questioned as she slowly pulled her phone out of her back pocket, her weight shifting between her two feet, ready to move in an instant.

"No," he replied. "Look why don't you just tell me who you are and make this easier on yourself." He crossed his arms smugly.

"You guys don't do your research do you?" she asked as she pressed a few buttons on her phone, still behind her back, dialling her uncle. She could feel it ringing, now all she had to do was keep whoever this was distracted for long enough.

"What were you looking for in there?" Quinn asked as he nodded towards the draw which she was rummaging through.

"What are you doing in this apartment? Pretty sure you're not meant to be here."

"I'm pretty sure you're not meant to be here," he said back, not enjoying the mind games, or the sarcasm, he was sure she was playing. He slowly moved towards her and, foolishly, she tried to run past. He grabbed her forcefully by the forearms as he tried to pull out a cable tie from his pocket. She kicked, frantically to break free. "Stop!" he yelled in frustration.

_I had a lot of fun with this chapter. And guys, I need motivation! I have some really awesome ideas for season 5 but am stuck trying to finish the stuff in the season breaks. I have the ideas, just not the motivation and don't want to move on before I finish it._

_Thanks again for the reviews. _

_A Lyrical Dreamer xx_


	54. Who Might You Be?

"Abby!" Eliot yelled as he ran into the apartment just in time to see his niece, her hands tied behind her back, somehow manage to elbow Quinn in the face. The guest hitter stepped back and swore, clenching his nose in pain as Abby ran towards her uncle. She turned around and allowed Eliot to cut away the ties with a knife flicked out from pocket. Still swearing, Quinn released his nose then ran his hands across his face; he knew he'd screwed up.

"You okay?" he asked as he held her shoulder's affectionately, once again reluctant to let her go. She rubbed her now red wrists; Quinn had done the ties up tightly.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she said, breathing heavily and accepting the situation that had unfolded unfortunately around her. She stepped away from Eliot and now standing still, finally got to examine her attacker. He had a look of fear in his eyes; the fear of a man knew almost certainly he was about to die. Or else, face the very serious wrath of Eliot. And the rest of the team.

"You know her?" Quinn asked angrily when he'd finally stopped gawking and figured things out.

"You know him?" Abby asked simultaneously.

Both pointed at each other in frustration.

"What the hell Quinn!" Eliot yelled as he walked up to the man and shoved him, aggressively as his protective nature grew ever stronger. Quinn held his hands up submissively as he was backed into the window. Getting on the wrong side of Eliot Spencer was not something he wanted to do again.

"I…I didn't know you knew her," he defended as he tried to back up further but he was already practically groping the wall. "I saw her rummaging through some stuff. I thought she might work for Dubenich."

"She's a kid!"

"How the hell am I meant to know that?" He gestured to her body; she was wearing slim fitting jeans and leather jacket which aged her figure and fitted in with the questionable lifestyle of which Quinn was referring. It was deceptive and, with all that was going on, Abby had thought deceptive was the way to go.

"If you hurt her Quinn I will break every bone in your body!" Eliot turned away, then back again, pointing his finger at Quinn's face.

"I didn't Eliot. I swear," he said, slowing his voice down and cautiously lowering his hands. "None of my punches landed. You taught her well."

"Dammit Quinn!" He yelled again, ignoring the man's flattery.

"Eliot," she interrupted, stepping out from behind the protective shield of her uncle. "It's okay; he was just doing his job. And besides, I was the only one who actually got any punch to land. Twice," she said mockingly.

"Yeah, she punches like you," Quinn said, rubbing his face. "And who is she, Spencer Junior?"

"That's my girl!" Eliot said with a huge grin on his face, turning to face her. "And she's my niece," he explained, turning back to face Quinn. "And if you so much breathe a word about her to anyone, I will hurt you." The threat was real and Quinn knew that.

"Don't mention Junior, got it," he agreed, nodding his head.

"Oh, and consider us even," Eliot declared and Quinn sighed but did not protest. He'd rather no longer owe Eliot a favour than have to take another beating from him.

"So who's he?" Abby asked.

"Quinn. He's working with us on this job." Eliot replied, crossing his arms and staring menacingly at the other hitter.

"Quinn? Just Quinn?"

"Just Quinn," the man confirmed, mirroring Eliot's stance.

"No first name? No last name?"

"Just Quinn and not that this isn't great," Quinn stated sarcastically, "but shouldn't we be leaving?"

"Probably," Eliot agreed and gesturing out the door but Abby did not follow, instead walking to the back of the room behind Nate's desk.

"What about Old Nate?" Abby asked as she pointed to the painting hanging on the back wall.

"Fine." Eliot rolled his eyes and reluctantly walked towards the back wall to grab the painting.

"Thankyou," she chirped then grabbed the photo album she had come for out of the draw she had been rummaging through earlier. They left out together, Quinn behind and Abby protectively in the middle. As they marched out and down to the van Eliot could almost hear Shelley laughing 'I told you to' right in his face. He was right though and it had only taken Eliot two attacks in as many days for him to realise that maybe the best way to keep her safe was to let her in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What were you even doing at Nate's?" Eliot said as they unpacked the Batcave. "Thought I told you to pack your stuff and meet me here?"

"Yeah but I left some stuff at Nate's. I assumed you were still there; the van was still out front. I thought it'd be okay," she replied timidly.

"You shouldda just called me to get it," he replied, shaking his head.

Out of her bag, Abby pulled out the dense photo album he had given her for Christmas. Eliot sighed as she pulled it close to her; he could tell how much it meant to her.

"I didn't wanna-"

"I understand," he interrupted. "But given the circumstances you'll forgive me if I'm a little paranoid."

"I'd expect nothing less." She cradled the album close her chest and he patted her on the shoulder.

"And good job on kickin' Quinn's ass."

"But I lost, again," there was self disappointment in her voice, "he cable tied me."

"Quinn is very good at what he does. You did better than most to hold your own against him."

"But I-"

"Don't matter. You did good and you're gonna keep getting better," he interrupted.

"Thanks Eliot," she said as she leant over and kissed him on the cheek.

"Yo Spencer," Quinn yelled out from across the cave. "You gonna come give me a hand with… this," he said, gesturing to Old Nate.

"Yeah," Eliot said as he walked over to the guest hitter.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So I heard you had a little altercation with Quinn today?" Sophie asked as both Hardison and Parker piled into the cave with their guests.

"Yeah," she said half-heartedly and Sophie raised an eyebrow out of concern.

"Abby? What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Abby?"

"I had to pack a bag."

"That's because we're all staying here while this job is on-"

"No Sophie. You know what El told me? He said 'I need you to pack some bags and don't leave anything important behind.' You know what that says to me? That we aren't staying here after this."

Sophie sighed, understanding completely how the girl felt.

"We don't know that Abby but, even if it's true, we'll still all be together," the grifter replied, trying as best as she could to comfort the girl.

"Sophie I just got settled. I have friends, I just made up with Kyle, I'm doing well in school. I'm settled in. I don't want to have to move. Not again."

It was the 'not again' that caught Sophie's attention and she comfortingly rubbed the girl's forearm.

"Care to elaborate?"

"You know how many times I've moved houses Soph?" she asked rhetorically but didn't wait for an answer. "27. Military bases, three or four after he left, so many during Moreau and every time I get settled I get uprooted again. You'd think I'd be used to it by now but-"

"No, no," Sophie interrupted, shaking her head. "You don't ever get used to it. Every time you leave a place you lose the little bit that you gave to it. But you also learn that there are wonderful new things awaiting you." Her almost poetic explanation made the teenager smile. "But regardless," she continued with feigned cheer. "We _have_ built a home here and so long as this job goes well I don't think we'll have anything to worry about."

"Parker," they heard Chaos yell from the middle of the room. "Still yummy!"

"I should go deal with this," Sophie said standing up. "You're okay?"

"Yeah, Soph. I'm okay."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So what's the deal with you and Junior?" Quinn asked Eliot as they were setting down the painting.

"There's no deal," Eliot replied simply.

"Ha, bullshit. Guys like us don't get the family thing Eliot. So what's the deal?"

"The deal is after her mother died I raised her because the rest of her family are deadbeats!"

Quinn was silent; the harshness of Eliot's comment had caused him to be taken aback. "What about you?" Eliot asked, not wanting the silence to ensue. "Ever consider the family thing?"

"Once."

"And?"

"Decided work was better," Quinn replied, clearly lying as he turned away but Eliot didn't press, knowing exactly what the man was thinking. "And what about Nate? Things seem a little tense between you lot." He wiped his hands from the dust which was so abundant in the cave.

Eliot slapped his hands on his thighs and sighed. "Yeah well, that's just Nate."

"Sure it is."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So who are you like, Batgirl?" Chaos asked Abby, sitting at the table, her laptop out as she surfed the web pointlessly.

"Rather be Batgirl than some deadbeat narcissist who has a picture of a brain on his t-shirt," she replied; there was something about this Chaos character who disgusted her.

"No," he continued, un-phased by her comment. "You're like the kid in Jurassic Park! The really, really annoying one."

"Chaos," Nate said from next to the projector. "You leave her alone."

"Man you guys suck!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So who might you be young lady?" Archie asked Abigail as she braided her hair, music in her ears.

"Abigail Spencer," she replied, pulling a headphone out of her ear. "I'm Eliot's niece."

"Ah. Pleasure to meet you. I'm Archie Leech, Parker's father," he said extending his hand; she returned the gesture.

"So you're a master thief yes?"

"Not quite at the same level as I used to be, but yes. And to what do you offer to the team?"

"Cookies and my charming smile mostly," she joked. "No, Eliot doesn't like me joining in on jobs."

"This bothers you?"

"Yeah, a little," she confessed.

"And if you were to 'join in'. What would your role be?" he asked smiling and she paused for a minute to think.

"I don't know. I'm not an excellent thief. I can use computers but I can't hack. I can fight pretty good, but not nearly as well as Eliot. I can act, I suppose. But I don't know."

"Well, what skills do you have? And don't limit it to anything thief related. What are you good at?"

"Languages, I have a good memory," she stated. "And I notice things."

"Things like?"

"Nate's more tense than usual. But not just because his father died but because someone got the better of him. Parker and Hardison are on the verge of finally officially dating. You have a switch blade in your left pocket and are actually left handed, even though you pretend to be right handed," she said, the words coming out of her mouth before she even consciously realised the facts. "Why is that?"

"Tell me my dear, have you ever seen the Princess Bride?"

"I can see why Parker likes you."

XXXXXXXXXX

_I had my first day off in nearly a month today. I stayed in bed and wrote (a lot) all day. Then I made creme brulee. _

_I now have some great story juices flowing so you can happily, hopefully, expect more soon. _

_Thanks again for you're awesome support. You guys are the best readers ever. _

_Love Always, A Lyrical Dreamer_


	55. Solitary Gun

"You know a lot of things Nate," Eliot said to the mastermind as he futilely tried to shoot three glasses turned upside-down with his father's gun. The ping echoed about the room. "You don't know how this is gonna change ya."

"You handled it," Nate replied without looking at the hitter.

"Well you have no idea who I was before all of this... started. And that guy, kid, he had God in his heart he had a flag on his shoulder. Clean hands," he stuttered and Nate slowly turned to face him. "And I ain't seen him in the mirror in over ten years. And believe me, I get up every morning looking for him. So you can trust me when I tell you that pull that trigger and two men die. The guy you kill, and the guy you used to be."

Nate stood silent as the man walked off.

"But you still did it!" Nate yelled. "You still did what you did because you had to," he said, trying to find a way to justify his actions.

"I did what I did because I was a stupid kid and because I had to _protect my family_," Eliot yelled tapping his chest and turning back to face the mastermind. "You ain't protecting anyone here Nate. You're just out for revenge. You've got tunnel vision and you're puttin' people at risk. You're puttin' Abby at risk!"

"You're telling me that he doesn't deserve it? After what he did? He went after her too," he exclaimed as though the hitter had forgotten.

"I'm telling you, it's not worth it! You're right, he did go after Abigail, but I'm not stupid enough to screw everything up for revenge!" His voice grew husky as he yelled.

"So you wouldn't kill Moreau if you had the chance?" He was trying to push Eliot's buttons; push them for the answer he wanted and the hitter knew it.

"You know Nate, I ain't your daddy, I ain't gonna tell you what to do," his voice was tight, low and deceptively calm. He refused to answer Nate's last question; he refused to be manipulated by him. "And I _don't_ have to defend my actions to you. But you have no idea what this will do to you and you go down that line, I won't follow you. _We_ will be gone."

It was not a hollow threat, something which the mastermind knew, but still as Eliot turned and strode aggressively away Nate spun back around to his bottles, raised his father's gun and fired with perfect accuracy, the thought of revenge still firmly placed in his mind, despite what he knew he had to lose.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eliot stared at the gun Quinn and thrown him for a moment, examining the weight of it and what it could do before he finally cocked the weapon. Sophie looked at him with sense of horror that, to Eliot, was foreign on her face.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice shaking in shock. "What are you doing?" she said again, this time more firmly, regaining her composure

"I'm thinking about saving my friend some trouble," he said, his hand shaking. It had been a long time since he'd killed someone like this; point blank and not out of necessity. And he was considering it, seriously considering it. Nate was already bad enough already, he didn't need this extra burden, Eliot didn't need to deal with Nate's extra burdens. The hitter on the other hand, he already carried that weight around with him. What was one more?

_"__Eliot what's going on?" _Abby asked through the comms, knowing only partially what was happening outside of the cave.

Her voice made him come to his senses and, still staring cruelly into Dubenich's fear filled eyes, he unloaded the gun.

Too many, that's what one more was.

"Next time give me the gun," Quinn stated as they walked away from Dubenich. "I'm your Huckleberry." The phrase was an olive branch of sorts; every hitter had experienced that horror in themselves and every hitter knew that distraction was the preferred remedy.

"Here," Eliot said, handing him the weapon and proceeding to fiddle with the necklace Abby had given him as child, which swung from his neck.

"Little late now," he replied.

"I love that movie," Eliot stated, by way of distraction.

"Who the hell doesn't?" he quipped and Eliot smiled but, truthfully, his mind was somewhere else.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Abby was lying on her cot in the corner of the cave when Eliot returned after the debarkle at the airport. She had heard through the grapevine what had happened and it scared her.

The hitter paced around for a few minutes before he finally decided to go talk to her. "Shove," he said as he tapped her feet and she shifted into a sitting position.

"So," she said.

"How much did you hear today?"

She didn't reply.

"So a lot huh? Look Abs I've done a lot of bad things..."

"I don't care," she said softly.

"What?" he asked in surprise.

"I don't care what you did DyaDya, I care what you do. And I don't like what you were going to do today."

"Neither do I, but sometimes..."

"But this wasn't a sometime. This wasn't self-defence or Alec in danger like that job with the College or with the funeral home, this was cold-blooded and you know it. What ever happened to not making the last deadly move?" she asked as she stood up and walked away.

Eliot stood up to follow her but Sophie, who had been hovering in the corner, stopped him.

"Give her some time Eliot," she offered softly.

"But-" he blabbered,

"No, what you nearly did shocked all of us today and we're all seasoned criminals. Abby's just a kid. Give her some time to process it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Abby punched the heavy bag which Eliot had brought down in one of the smaller caves off from the main one.

And again. And again. Trying to let all her frustrations out.

"Make sure you use your shoulder," Quinn offered, observing from the sidelines.

"What the hell do you want?" She threw another punch at the bag.

"Came here to use the bag."

"Didn't you knock two guys out like half an hour ago," she said as she threw another punch, wondering why he needed the practice.

"Exactly," he stated as though it made perfect sense and began to move forwards. "He wasn't going to do it you know Junior."

"Please don't call me that, Harlequin," she quipped; if he'd given her an annoying nickname, he was going to get one too. Actually, he was going to get more than just a nickname.

She threw another punch, this time at Quinn. He blocked easily then gripped the bag, making it easier for her to throw the aggressive punches

He nodded at her to continue and she threw a sequence of heavy punches into bag. Quinn grunted as he kept the bag steady.

"And do what?" she huffed as she paused, returning to his original question.

"You know what I mean. He wasn't going to kill Dubenich."

"'Cause you know Eliot so well," she replied sarcastically and she punched again.

"Cause I saw him three years ago; he was brutal, angry. I fought him and he was very prepared to kill me."

"I wonder why," she muttered under her breath as she threw another set of punches. Quinn raised is brow in annoyance.

"Anyway," he continued, ignoring the dig, "that's not the same person I saw today. He hesitated."

"So?"

"_So_ your uncle has changed," he said shoving the bag forward and stepping away. "He's not the same person and he's making better choices because of it." She couldn't help notice a sense of longing in his voice. "You, well, you're just a kid; you need to trust _him _to make those right choices."

He walked off slowly leaving Abby standing alone in the darkness of the cave. Furiously, she turned around and threw a punch at the bag.

"What do you know?" she yelled back out into the darkness.

"You're angry," Quinn replied matter of factly, turning back around. He spoke clearly with firsthand knowledge. "But don't be angry with him for making the right choice, even if he considered the wrong one for just a second. Life's too short for that."

She stood in silence, contemplating. She didn't like the idea of people killing other people, not when she had experienced the hurt that came with the death of a loved one. She didn't like the idea of her uncle killing other people. She wasn't naive though, she was aware of her uncle's reputation. But that was just it; that was who Eliot had _used _to be and today that man had shown up again, a thought which frightened her. She'd more or less seen it with Alec and the CIA interrogator but that had been different, a life had been saved and this had just been… vengeful.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

_dsnygal- That's exactly what I was going for! Thanks_

_Chapter title plagiarised from a Rogue Wave song. _

_'_Will I follow you down the line?

Will I follow you down the line?...

We've been suffering the six days since he died'

_I thought it was fitting_

_Much Love, _

_A Lyrical Dreamer_


	56. Familiarity

_Take two with this chapter. Sorry for the formatting issues guys_

* * *

><p>"Hey," Abby stated softly, manoeuvring around some cables on the floor and walking around to sit next to Eliot. The hitter, reading, looked up and nodded. "Can we talk?"<p>

"Course darlin'," he nodded, shifting over to make room for her to sit. "What about?"

Abby gave him a look. "You know what about," she declared as she sat down close beside him. "It's not always easy for me Eliot. Because I don't really understand it." She paused and rolled her shoulders, mildly uncomfortable. "I'm just glad you didn't do it, and I'm sorry for getting so pissy at you."

"You're allowed to get… pissy," he stated, uncertain about using the word which felt awkward in his mouth. "I think that's more than fair and, for what it's worth, I'm glad you don't understand. I hope you never do."

"Why were you gonna do it?" she asked, softly, shifting her weight to sit on her hands and staring down at the floor.

"My job is to protect this team Abigail, protect Nate." The explanation was brief but insightful enough. He wanted to protect the mastermind from what he'd become; protect him from the pain and horror he'd experienced.

"But then you didn't."

"Because I made a promise," he nodded at her, "and because Nate has to make his own decisions."

"And three years ago, would you have done it?" was her next question, which took him by surprise.

"Who you been talkin' to?"

"Quinn," she explained. "I sorta vented at him."

"Probably," he confessed as much as he hated to, but that's what he'd promised; honesty. "We were all different three years ago Abby. Sophie, Nate, all of us," he paused for a moment, "what matters is who we are now."

"I like who you all are now," she agreed.

"Me too," he agreed, shutting his book and standing up. "You should talk to Nate," Eliot added as an afterthought. Her furrowed brow asked him to elaborate. "Just because I can't make decisions for him, doesn't mean that you can push him towards the right one. You're good at that."

"Okay," Abby agreed quietly, nodding slightly to herself. Eliot stood to leave but hesitated, hovering over the seat with his hands still resting on his thighs. Abby wondered how long he was going to wait there, how long something (and she was sure there was something) was going to weigh on his mind. "What?" she asked, growing impatient and a little worried; in her experience, the more someone waited to tell something, the not so good it was.

"Nothin'," he declared, finally standing tall and shaking his head. "We'll talk about it later okay?" Abby nodded quietly as Sophie, followed by Maggie, wandered into the cave.

"Okay?" she agreed uncertainly as he popped a kiss on her forehead and walked off to make the final preparations.

"Abby!" the grifter exclaimed in a hushed yell. "You should meet Maggie."

"The Maggie?" Abby asked in response.

"I have a title do I?" Maggie seemed almost proud. "Hi, Maggie," she introduced with a kind smile on her face. "But then again, you already know that."

"Abby," the teenager smiled in response.

"Oh come on Parker," they all heard Chaos exclaim, chasing Parker in the adjacent cave. "Just one?"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "I'm going to go deal with this," the grifter declared walking off to yell at the most insufferable man, child, she had ever met.

"So you were married to Nate, I bet that was fun," she smiled sarcastically.

"Some of it was," she agreed sincerely. "Some of it, not so much."

"So, uh, I bet you know him pretty well huh?" Abby asked, looking down at her fingers. It wasn't difficult for Maggie to sense the uneasiness.

"I do, yes. Why?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXx

Something about being around Maggie made him feel safe and comfortable. The familiarity conned him into believing he was still in that simple life he'd had so many years ago. But his life was rarely simple.

"Now that you two are together, when Sophie asks me for a favour, how could I refuse?" she offered kindly and Nate forced a smile. As far as he was aware, he and Sophie weren't technically 'together'. Then again, neither was he and Maggie and he _had_ just referred to her as his wife.

But still, he stammered.

"You know I'm happy for you Nate," Maggie declared after Sophie had left them. "They're good for you, she's good for you."

Nate laughed awkwardly, but it felt good, especially after days of brooding and darkness.

"You know for the record," he stated, finally regaining his composure. "I just want you to know that when we were together, well, nothing ever happened with her."

Maggie rolled her eyes.

"Oh god, Nate," she sighed, exasperated. "Always the Jesuit. If temptation counted as cheating, no marriage would make it past the first year. Imagine what it was like for me?" she continued, with a sly smile on her face. "You bringing _James _around all those years."

"James?" Nate asked in worry and surprise. Without looking back, Maggie kept walking, continuing with the grifting Sophie had just now praised her on. "Sterling?" Nate confirmed.

"We better hurry," Maggie continued, expertly changing the subject. "Latimer will be waking soon. It's your master plan. Pity if we miss it."

Nate let out a hefty sigh before Maggie grabbed his arm and turned him to face her.

"Nate," she looked deep into his eyes. There it was, that comforting, familiar feeling. "I meant what I said once, that I like this Nate better than the old one," she began and Nate, sensing what was coming began to walk away. The feeling was still familiar, just now not so warm and fuzzy.

"Nate," she continued adamantly. "Don't throw it away. Don't throw them away-"

"Who talked to you huh?" he asked, his voice tense like it always was when he was confronting someone. "Was it Eliot? Sophie?"

"Neither," she shook her head. "Abigail." The name fell softly from her lips.

Nate looked surprised and shifted the box in his hands.

"She cares about you Nate," Maggie continued softly. "So do all the others. Please just think about that before you do something stupid." It wasn't a plea or a question, she knew either would be pointless on Nate, it was merely a reminder.

Nate shifted the box once more and continued walking.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Abby found Nate still sitting with the gun in front of him, staring at it deeply.

"I'm sorry about your dad," she declared walking up behind him. Unaware and deep in his thoughts, he jolted in surprise. "He um, he sounded like he really cared about you."

She continued walking closer and sat down next to him as he stuffed the gun into his pocket. Still he said nothing until, again surprised, she embraced him in a loving hug. He didn't reciprocate at first but after a moment, he hugged her back.

"Nate please don't do anything stupid," she pleaded, letting go and returning to sit next to him.

"I don't know what you mean," he said in a hoarse whisper.

"Nate if you won't do it, or not do it, for yourself, will you at least do it for me? I don't want to see you more broken. Neither does anyone else. We love you," she said, the last words barely inaudible.

Once again Nate did not reply and Abby, feeling she'd said all she could say, shrugged, kissed him on the cheek and walked away.

* * *

><p><em>As always thanks guys. And I didn't get a chance to reply to any of your reviews soooo...<em>  
><em>inkhands96- Thankyou, I'm glad you're enjoying it! Hope we get to see more work from you soon.<em>  
><em> - I hear that, he'll either learn or he won't. Or she will. Thanks again!<em>

_jinxcat21- Glad you liked it, emotion thingy magigs are something I enjoy writing but am never quite sure about, so thanks. Well, yes to the Abby and Nate scene as for your other question... you'll just have to wait and _  
><em>dsnygal and Daisyangel- yes, tough is the word. I'm glad you liked it though <em>

_So I'm working on s5 and all your suggestions/requests slowly and I have a question for you all. Obviously I'm going to have original cons and plot lines but in terms of the /emactual emepisodes... how much did you want them written. Do you want Abby entirely (or mostly) written into the con or just sort of have it going on in the background. Because I'm not sure._  
><em>Any way, much love to you all<em>

_XX_


	57. Reed Road

After they'd won/stole/conned/acquired the money from Latimer's account, there'd been a brief celebration. It was a rare collaboration that had, for just a moment, brought an unlikely group of people together. For one very small moment.

"Hey Quinn," Abby stated, jogging up the stairs to meet Quinn before he left.

"Yeah," he acknowledged, without turning around, fiddling in his pocket for his keys with one hand, while the other held his duffle bag.

"I wanted to say thankyou, for you know, what you said earlier," she confessed. It seemed, this week, she was giving a lot of thanks to those who didn't think they deserved it. First Shelley, now Quinn.

He pulled out his keys and turned around to face her. "Just doin' what I can to help, that's all."

"Still," Abby shrugged. "I appreciate it."

"Well then it was my pleasure," he offered her a sweet smile. "And sorry for attacking you as well, it was probably kind of unwarranted."

Abby shrugged again and let out breathy laugh. "I think I did pretty well… up, you know, until the end."

"You'll get better," he declared and placed his bag at his feet. He fished inside his breast pocket and pulled out a card.

He handed it to her and she stared at it a moment; Quinn's name and number were typed onto thick, expensive stationary. "What's-"

"In case you ever need it," he offered.

She flicked the card around between her fingers. "Why would you-"

"Because I can," he explained.

"You know what Harlequin," she said as she smiled in thanks. "I think there's more to you than meets the eye."

"Ma'am," he declared in response as he picked up his bag and turned to walk away.

"And so, he walked out of our lives forever," she stated theatrically.

Quinn, still walking towards the exit, spun around gave an equally theatrical bow and continued on his way.

She looked at the card one last time before slipping it into her back pocket and then turned to make her way back down to the others. To her surprise, Nate was walking up the stairs.

"Nate," Sophie shouted as she made it to the bottom of the stair case. "Don't," she pleaded and Nate looked back at her.

"I'm gonna do this one alone," he declared; there was a dark intensity in his voice.

"We either have each other's backs or we don't," Parker yelled, the rest of the team now standing as a group.

"My choice, my responsibility," the mastermind dismissed, stuffing the gun into his pocket. Sophie shook her head in adamant disbelief while the others stared blankly as Nate continued up to the surface.

"Nate," Abby pleaded softly as he walked past her, only daring to look her briefly in the eye.

The second the door slammed behind him, the others began to move. "Where's he headed?" Eliot asked as Abby jogged down the stairs.

Hardison was now on his computer with Eliot hovering over him. Parker was packing up anything they'd likely need and Sophie was pacing in nervousness and frustration.

"My guess?" Hardison began. He typed a few things on his laptop then sent the image to the projector. "Haverford Water Control Plant."

"Let's go," Eliot declared as Hardison shut down and unplugged his laptop.

They made quickly for the car, an unspoken yet unanimous decision having been made that Parker would be the driver. Nate had a few minutes head start, time was of the essence and Parker would surely make up that time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eliot was sure they'd only arrived a minute or so after Nate but already they could hear gunshots. Looking out the front of the van Eliot counted the vehicles. There were three cars which likely meant ten or so guys.

The ratio wasn't favourable, but Eliot would make do.

"Abby, stay in the car," he instructed, pointing his finger at her as the others quickly exited the vehicle. "Get the cameras up, tell us what you see."

"Yes sir," she nodded and made herself comfortable in the back. The second they left, she brought up the cameras which Hardison had hacked into a few days earlier.

Watching the team work, even in this unorthodox situation, was spectacular. They were like a well-oiled, albeit slightly dysfunctional, machine. Hardison, Sophie and Parker each took out their men with coordination and ease while Eliot took out three men inside the plant.

"Eliot, there's two more guys headed out to the bridge," Abby informed him, watching eagerly. "Next left then straight outside."

Eliot jogged out quickly with uncanny speed and discipline, took out the younger man with a swift punch to the face. The man moaned as Eliot and the boss stood at opposite sides of the bridge, staring each other down.

"_You know," _the hitter began, directing his speech to the suit clad man in front of him. He was well aware of the gun he was carrying, he just didn't care. From this distance, he calculated, he could easily reach him before he had a chance to draw his gun and fire. "_Somebody locked Jimmy Ford in that warehouse." _The man had to restrain himself from letting a contented grin cover his face. "_Wasn't you, was it?"_ The man remained silent and sombre, not letting any more emotion slip out onto his face. "_Right,"_ Eliot said then slipped out his earbud and placed it in his pocket.

"Dammit," Abby cursed; she didn't like being left out of conversations like this.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Well then," Eliot continued back on the bridge, "it musn't have been you who called for the kidnapping of Abby and her friend. Must have been someone else right?" he confirmed sarcastically as the other man shifted his weight preparing for a fight. "You see, the thing is, I know that this was all you and the problem I have with this is, you messed with my family. That probably wasn't a good idea." Eliot clenched his fists then loosened them again, allowing the blood to flow faster around his body.

"You know I have a gun right?" he asked, shifting his jacket and allowing the hitter to see the sidearm he had strapped to his chest; Eliot could also see the nervousness in his eyes.

"Yeah, that what makes it fair," Eliot smiled and, in an instant, his face dropped and he bolted forward. As he did he pulled the man pulled the gun out only managing to fire a shot as Eliot grabbed his arm and forced it upwards. He twisted the gun out of his hand and tossed over the bridge and into the raging waters below. "Don't ever mess with me or my family again," he hissed and as the thug tried to free himself from his grip. Eliot rolled his eyes and, as he twisted the man's arm around kneed him in the chest. Still conscious he crumpled to the ground and Eliot threw one final, satisfying hit to his face sending him into darkness.

Stepping back over the man and huffing deeply he pulled the com out of his pocket and manoeuvred it back into his ear.

"What's going on Abby?"

* * *

><p>Back in the van, just at that instant, Abby spied Nate, you had managed to evade the cameras so far, exciting the plant. He ran with determination and Dubenich in tow.<p>

"Nate's at the uh, south of the plant," she explained. The others looked around at their location to gather their bearings and then, without a word being spoken, ran to the south side of the plant.

"Oh my goodness!" she gasped as she saw Nate collapse over the barrier, having been shot by Victor.

"_Abby, what's going on?" _Eliot asked, jogging as fast as he could.

"Uh," she murmured as she tried to make a decision.

Finally, she managed to calm herself enough to make a decision. Quickly, she jumped out her seat, out of the van and slammed the door behind her.

"_Abby_?" Eliot questioned but, in her own little world and blocking out everything that was not pertinent, she ignored him, and ran as fast as she could down towards Nate.

She however, like the others, didn't make it to Nate. Instead, she rounded the corner on the upper level where the rest of the team were waiting, and staring down as Nate threatened the two men on the lower level near the falls. The place was like a maze and it wasn't surprising that she got the directions wrong, just irritating as anything.

"I told you to stay in the damn car," Eliot cursed, mostly out of fear as Abby drew close.

"I couldn't," she explained. Eliot wrapped his arm around her shoulder, protecting her from whatever was to come, and she leant into him as Nate stared up at them.

He looked at Hardison who, in spite of never being asked always made sure that everything was safe; that kept them working.

He looked at Parker who, despite being emotionally awkward and unaware, had grown more than anyone he'd ever met.

He looked at Sophie, the woman he loved, who cared for the others, and for him, in a way he never could.

He looked at Eliot, who had, day in day out kept them safe without regard for his own safety. Who had always stood by Nate.

He looked at Abby, young and innocent with a big heart and who had somehow drawn them all even closer as a team. As a family.

God, he had a family. A real family. After all his years of torture and self-loathing, he finally had something he cared about.

He looked back at Latimer and Dubenich and made a decision. As much as he wanted to hurt them, he wasn't prepared to pay the price of losing his family.

He couldn't just throw them away. That wouldn't be fair, not for him or them.

"Of course," he declared to the two men standing in front of him. "Nobody has to pull the trigger today." He walked past them to the edge of the slab and took a deep breath while both men stared at him intently. "We could just all walk away and accept the consequences of what we've done." With that, he lent forward and placed the gun on the edge of the cliff and turned to walk away, ready to take up life's offer to no longer be tortured.

* * *

><p><em>I've only just realised what a massive turning point this episode was for Nate's character, hope I did it justice.<em>

_And because I'm uncreative, I stole the title from a song by Typhoon._

_Oh, anyone here on tumblr? I'd love to give you a follow_

_XX A Lyrical Dreamer_


	58. Like a Holiday, Only Not

They made their way up to the van slowly with Eliot making it there first and pulling the van door open. He then stepped inside and pulled on a pair of gloves.

Hardison and Parker was next into the vehicle, he jumping into the driver's seat and she in the passenger seat beside him. Then came Abby, followed by Sophie and a growing ever so weary Nate.

"Where are we going?" Hardison asked.

"I think we're fine to head back to Nate's," Eliot replied, gesturing Nate to sit down beside him so he could tend to his wound. The drive back to Boston from the damn was a good three hour trip and although giving someone medical attention in the back of a moving van wasn't exactly idea, it was better than the alternative of waiting until they arrived back at Nate's.

He dug a little further into the medkit and pulled out a pair of scissors which he placed on the small desk. Settling further into his seat he then pulled out another set of gloves which he tossed to Abigail. She caught them awkwardly with a look of surprise on her face.

"Can you put those on for me?" he asked, opening and closing the scissors a few times in his hands before he cut Nate's shirt of his shoulder. He pulled it away from his body slowly; the blood had made it stick uncomfortably to the wound.

"Why?" the teen asked as the rest of the crew looked at her then towards Eliot. Nate especially had a look of concern on his face.

"I figure it's probably a good idea that someone other than me knows how to do this," he said in a gravelly tone without looking up from examining the extent of the mastermind's wound. Shelley's words were still hovering in the back of his mind and he couldn't shake them out. She needed to know this, he hated it, but she needed to know it. And now, he figured, was more or less an appropriate time.

"You're sure?" she asked, fiddling with the bright blue gloves in her hands.

"Yeah," he replied, looking at her and showing her his seriousness. Hardison started the van and the vehicle began to roll away from the dam. They were all glad to be rid of it, and the job with it.

"Do I get any say in this?" Nate asked, shooting a glance down at his injury and trying to ignore Sophie's concerned stares and sighs.

"No," Eliot said harshly. "'Kay Abs, grab some gauze and put pressure on the wound. It's a through and through so you don't have to worry about trying to dig around for a bullet and causing more damage."

"How do you even know all this?" Sophie asked curiously, interrupting the flow of Eliot's clarification. Abby meanwhile pressed the gauze against Nate's skin. She was extremely tentative, scared of injuring him more but mostly unphased by the issue at hand.

"Same reason she needs to know," he replied vaguely, though it didn't really answer the question, and then continued with his explanation. "There's no artery damage 'cause it's not bleeding severly-"

"That's not severe?" she asked.

"No," Eliot shook his head, "severe is blood all over the joint. But the gauze'll be fine for this one." He pulled out a needle out of the first aid kit and proceeded to fill it with a local anaesthetic. "So this wound has an entry and exit wound, that's good but it needs stitches."

"How do you know if it needs stitches?"

"Unless it's like a pee shooter, it's gonna need stitches."

"Please tell me I get to have morphine," Nate complained.

"Does it look like I have morphine?" Eliot replied; he was still angry with Nate and the stunt he had tried to pull. He was thankful that he'd made the right choice in the end, but still very much pissed at the road he had to take to do so.

The hitter turned back to Abby. "This is a local anaesthetic," he said handing her the needle and taking over the task of applying pressure. Her eyes widened in slight horror at being given the medicine, but she didn't bother asking how they had gotten it.

"So what you want to do is put it in here, just above the wound." He pointed with his pinky as while his hands pushed down on the gauze. Nate flinched; it was slightly more painful having the large hitter who was a little angry at the man apply pressure onto the wound than a tentative teenager.

"You want me to do it?" she confirmed, her eyes widening with surprise. "You want me to stab Nate with a needle?"

"Dear God, please don't stab," the mastermind complained again.

"Yeah don't, don't stab," Eliot agreed. "Just be forceful, but gentle at the same time. Right in there," he said pointing at a spot on Nate's shoulder as well as informing Abby of the angle she was to use.

"You know that's an oxymoron yeah?" she said as she leant in and injected the needle in to the masterminds shoulder; to her delight, he didn't shriek in pain.

Eliot continued to walk her through how to clean, stitch, dress and deal with the after effects of a gun wound and then, when they were finished, how to deal with other serious injuries. The others listened intently, something for which Eliot was thankful. The more of them that knew this information, the better it would be for all of them.

Several hours later they arrived in Boston and made their way slowly up to the apartment, each exhausted in their own way. Nate limped painfully along the hall, hanging off Sophie's loving shoulder. Eliot had his arms wrapped around Abby's shoulder and her face was buried in his. Hardison followed behind with Parker, who had her hand laced around his shoulders; he was practically dragging her on her feet. When they reached the door, Hardison pulled lightly away from the thief's grip and snuck in front of the eldest pair. Knowing that neither of them could spare their hands. He held it open as they and the others clambered in, then shut the door securely behind them.

Once inside, as relaxing as it was to be home, there was little they could do to celebrate. The apartment was stripped bare; no furniture, no food. No drinks. Everything was either locked away in storage or still in the Batcave.

"What do we do now?" Parker asked innocently, sitting down on the steps and looking up at her family.

"We have to law low, and not like we laid low after Moreau," Eliot stated firmly. "We have to split up and do this properly."

"How long?" Hardison asked, taking a seat beside the thief.

"A month, maybe two. This job attracted a lot of attention," Eliot replied.

"Vacation, woo baby!" Hardison threw a tired fist bump into the air. He was excited, just too exhausted to sound it.

"So we stay out of Boston for what, six weeks?" Nate said weakly. "Then meet up and come back here."

"Wait, stay out of Boston? But I have school," Abby complained. With a large thump, she settled herself down on the floor, crossing her legs beneath her.

"You know," Sophie said. "You're the only teenager I've ever met who actually enjoys school."

"It's not that weird. Is it?"

"It's a little weird," Parker said.

"Shouldn't matter anyway Ace," Hardison began. "You're smarter than everyone else in your year."

"What? You compare her test scores or somethin'?" Eliot asked.

"Possibly," the hacker replied slyly.

"Dammit Hardison," Eliot complained, though secretly he was extremely proud of his niece.

"I think what Hardison's trying to say," Nate began. "Is that you will be more than fine missing out on a few weeks of school."

"Abs just think of it as a vacation," Eliot said as he pulled her close. "It'll be fun."

"Okay," she said uncertainly.

"So this is it then?" Sophie said. "Six weeks."

"I guess so," Parker stated.

They lingered in silence for a moment as the thought past through each of their heads that they may not see each other again; that this may have been the last job they'll ever pull together.

"We should celebrate," Abby suggested.

"Oh?" Hardison enquired.

"Yeah, this was a job well done. We should celebrate, order some pizza and just..."

"Celebrate," Sophie concluded. "I think we should!"

"I could go for pizza," Parker agreed and, within minutes they were sitting on the floor of Nate's empty apartment laughing, talking and celebrating; perfectly happy with each other's company.

XXXXXXX

_yeah, so, long break, dealing with some stuff but I'm keen to get back into writing again! _

_Thanks as always xx_


	59. No, Absolutely No

Before Eliot could even ask Abby what she wanted to do for their time away she immediately requested that they return to the house on the other side of the state and continue its repairs.

They had returned there several times following their first trip, all over free weekends where the final, but careful, demolitions had been done and basic repair work started. However, they'd never had enough time to start decent work and, considering how much she was enjoying the renovations, it was only natural that she asked to work on the house.

Eliot obliged and, while Sophie flew to Paris, Nate went to the marina to finally test out his boat, and Parker and Hardison planned exciting adventures to goodness knows where, Eliot and Abby made their way across state to the house in Ohio.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Your move," Sterling declared, lifting his finger off the pale coloured pawn.

Olivia, without looking up from her copy of _The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, _lifted up one of her ebony knights and shifted it next to her father's pawn.

"Check," she declared, her phone buzzing next to the board.

She lifted her fingers up as Sterling cursed under his breath; that had been a good move. He took a few moments to think through his next one, buying time under the guise of going to stir the packet pasta sauce which was quietly simmering away on the stove.

"Bugger," he swore under his breath; the sauce had been burnt past return. "Pizza or Chinese?" he asked over his shoulder as he tipped the sauce down the sink.

"Chinese," Olivia declared without the slightest hint of surprise in her voice; she had never known her father to be a good cook and, honestly, had expected tonight's meal (just like 98% of the meals he'd attempted) to fail. "There's a menu in the top draw," she declared, having already researched the best local restaurants.

"Thanks," Sterling replied, taking the notion as a complement to his consistency, rather as an insult to his cooking.

He pulled the menu out of the draw while simultaneously moving the rook on the board. Olivia placed down her book and squinted her eyes.

"Hey dad," she began slowly.

"Yeah," he replied, carefully perusing the menu.

"Can Abby come over for a week or so?" she asked, without hesitating.

"Spencer?" he asked in horror. "Why? What trouble's Spencer got himself into now?"

"None," she replied. "It's just, I don't really know anyone here yet, she can't go back to Boston, she's my friend, it'd be fun."

"Sorry, no." There was little apology in his voice. She looked sternly at him as, out of the corner of his eye, he saw his computer light up in his study, which sat adjacent to the large kitchen. He made his way to check it as Olivia began to protest.

"Why not?" She asked, spinning around on the bar stool, following her father.

"Because," he began, shouting back over his shoulder. "It's Spencer!" he yelled, as though it meant something.

"No, this is _Abby. _They're different people, dad."

"No, just no," he stated, opening up the email which had caused his computer to ping. He squinted his eyes at the file and sighed. This wasn't good. At all. There was no way he could pull this off.

"Well that's just not fair is it?" Olivia continued to protest.

"Life's not fair, Olivia." He unplugged the device and walked it out into the kitchen, placing on the bench opposite the chess board.

"Please dad?"

"No," he said once more, his eyes perusing the email. Ideas started clicking over in his brain. Olivia, like her father, stared at the chess board, lucrative ideas forming in the back of her mind.

"Your move," she declared spitefully, shifting her rook to take her father's bishop and doing her best to hide the smile creeping onto her face.

Sterling looked down at the board, and back up to his computer, and back down to the board, realising that this might just work to his advantage. It might just work.

Keeping a straight face, he shifted his queen to take Olivia's rook. "Check mate," he stated proudly. "And Abby is welcome to come and stay for _one _week."

Olivia finally let out the smile she had been hiding in. "Thanks dad."

Sterling nodded and pulled the menu for dinner back out. "What would you like?"

"Sweet and sour pork," she said decidedly. In silent victory, she poised her hands on the kitchen bench and smirked quietly to herself.

"Right," he replied and fished the phone out of his pocket to order. "You let me win, didn't you?" he asked after he had dialled and the phone was ringing.

"And you only let Abby come over because of that file you got, didn't you?" she replied.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They'd been there for a week, and were putting the floor boards down in the last room on the ground floor when Abby received a text. She stared sheepishly at Eliot, her cell phone in hand for several moments before Eliot spoke up.

"What?" he asked, without looking up as he hammered down a floor board. His intuition still scared her sometimes.

"Hey… um…"

"What?" he asked again.

"Can I go over to Livy's for a week?" she asked cautiously.

"Olivia Sterling?" he confirmed, almost in horror, as he put down the hammer and pivoted on the balls of his feet to face her.

"Yeah," Abby nodded. "She's on holidays, bored, and still doesn't have any friends in LA and seeing as we're not working-"

"You want to go over to Olivia _Sterling's _house?" he asked again.

"Yes," Abby laughed.

"No, absolutely no," he reiterated. "No way, you're going to stay with Olivia for a week you wanna know why?" Eliot's tone was one of disbelief rather than anger.

"I can guess," Abby stated sarcastically.

"Because we're meant to be laying low and Sterling _will _find some way to screw that up," the hitter continued.

"I get that his personality is just… irritating but what did he actually do?" She shifted her weight and sat cross legged on the dusty floor. After settling herself down, she leant on the hilt of her hammer, doing her best to ignore the stares from Eliot which were so obviously hinting at her to keep working.

"You remember Quinn?"

"Harley? Sure," she nodded.

"Back when we'd first started, Sterling hired him to take me down, arrested Hardison and Parker, had us blow up our office and," Eliot paused and Abby waited in anticipation for the worst to come, "he keeps getting career boosts off _our _hard work!" Eliot tapped, almost punched, his chest forcefully with his index finger, trying to reaffirm his point.

Abby shrugged. "Okay, that's fair," she agreed. Anyone trying to arrest any of the team was easily "But it doesn't mean his daughter's the same. She's really cool and seeing as we can't go back to Boston…" she trailed off, waiting for his inevitable cave in.

"Where are they living?" He asked and Abby grinned. "That doesn't mean yes," he added quickly.

"LA," she stated as her fingers tapped excitedly and nervously; that totally meant yes

"What are you planning on doing?"

"Dunno, shop, see the sights, hang out."

"And what am I meant to do? 'Cause I sure as _hell_ ain't spending any time with Sterling."

"It's LA! You managed entertain yourself without me before, I'm sure you'll find something to do."

Eliot put down the hammer he was holding in his hand and rubbed his face. This wasn't what he had in mind for his time off.

"Please."

"Go book some tickets," he finally stated, gesturing out to nowhere. Abby excitedly jumped up, kissed him on the cheek and ran out the door to go book some tickets to LA.

XXXXXXXXX

_Have a few medium-large plans for the season break, so stay tuned!_

_Need some inspiration for two things though_

_-Eliot/Abby, Father/Daughter, Uncle/Neice bonding overseas story ideas_

_-How to smush Abby into the First Contact Job (because it was recommended by a few of you but I'm drawing a blank)_

_Reviews were amazing guys! I'm glad I'm back too!_

_to the wonderful anon leaving reviews on all my stories, you're gorgeous. You should make an account so I can thank you directly!_

_XX A Lyrical Dreamer_


	60. The Sterling Home

"Eliot," Sterling greeted coldly, opening up the front door to his house in Burbank.

"Sterling," Eliot replied, matching the man's cold mannerisms and tone perfectly.

"James," Abby spoke up, interrupting the deadlocked stares of hatred.

"Abigail," he stated, breaking eye contact with Eliot for only a second; not a single bone in his body trusted the criminal. "Olivia's upstairs, second door on the right." He stood aside to let the girl in and she excitedly ran up the stairs to greet her friend. "Care to come in?" he asked but not any part of his manner was inviting.

Eliot remained where he was; he trusted the Interpol agent just as much as he trusted him. Less since Sterling had drugged him in Dubai.

"I've got a proposition," Sterling explained, then stepped inside and made his way into his study, leaving the front door wide open and Eliot still standing outside.

The hitter waited, contemplating for a few moments, before following Sterling inside, firmly shutting the door behind him and carefully clocking the layout and exits.

"Drink?" Sterling asked, pouring himself a glass of bourbon from an intricate decanter as Eliot walked into his office.

Eliot crossed his arms; a signal of a definite no.

"Can't say I'm surprised," the agent noted smugly, putting the lid back on the jug and placing it back in its home on the bookshelf. "I'll get straight to the point; I need your area of expertise for a case I'm working."

Eliot said nothing.

"We've had intel come forward that De La Court has been trying to make some headway in the States." He took a long sip of his drink, waiting for Eliot's silence to conclude.

"De La Court as in the arms dealer?" Eliot confirmed; they were the first words he had spoken since entering the house.

"You're familiar with him?" Sterling asked in response, though he was hardly surprised. "How would you take him down?"

"You can't," Eliot snorted.

"Can't?" Now the agent was surprised. "Your team took down Damien Moreau and you're worried about a small time weapon's mogul?"

Eliot snorted again. "You think that matters? You think you can just take down an arms dealer and his network," he snapped his fingers, "just like that?"

"I'm not talking about taking down his network, just him. Stop him before his network reaches the States." There was condescension and pretentiousness in his voice, as he tried to assert his superior intelligence.

"Why you tellin' me this?"

"Like I said, your area of expertise." He took another sip of bourbon. "How would you take him down?"

"I wouldn't," Eliot stated firmly. "Not without a decent plan, not without the team and sure as hell not with you."

"Suit yourself," he tilted his head and sipped back the last of his drink. "I'll see you in a week then?"

"Don't mess with her," Eliot warned. He didn't think it was necessary but still, it didn't hurt to be transparent .

"No? Really?" Sterling's reply was painfully sarcastic.

Eliot didn't react as he walked out of the man's study and back out to the foyer. "Abby," he called out and, giggling, she came running down the stairs with Olivia close behind.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Nice room," Abby praised, spinning around as she admired Olivia's décor.

A large, four poster bed, accentuated by soft purple furnishings, sat in the middle of the room between two large windows and opposite the door. A dresser, covered in make-up, nail polish and hair accessories sat between one of the windows and the walk in robe and, unsurprisingly, an antique chess board sat in the room's final corner, it's deep coloured wood matching, almost perfectly, the skirting and finishes of the rest of the house.

"Thanks," Olivia smiled, jumping on to the bed. She pushed herself up against the headboard, sat cross-legged and placed a pillow in her lap.

Abby followed suit and sat cross legged at the food of the bed.

"So what's it like livin' your dad?" Abby asked and Olivia began to play with the piping on the cushion.

"It's great, you know, great, but, um, we're still getting used to it. I don't think he has any clue how to raise a teenage daughter. Did you find that? With your uncle?"

Abby pondered for a moment, pursing her lips. "Not really," she replied, slowly shaking her head. "I mean, everything's not perfect, he can get in these moods sometimes where he's just a huge grump and he's kinda overprotective but, I think we're both really comfortable."

Olivia looked disappointed.

"But Eliot practically raised my ma, and raised me when I was a kid, your dad didn't have that," she said quickly.

"Yeah, I guess," the other girl shrugged. "You wanna know what the worst part is?"

"What?" Abby asked cautiously.

"He can't cook!" she declared and then smiled.

Abby let out a small laugh. "Not even a little?"

"He burnt the _package _pasta sauce. If that's not an indication of his poor cooking skills I don't know what is," she laughed then turned her attention to Abigail. "So have you seen Kyle yet?" Her eyes were full of curiosity and intrigue. Abby shifted her weight and nodded. "Oh?" Olivia pressed.

"Once, since I punched him in the face," Abby smirked; despite the social norms, she was sort of proud of what she'd done. "We actually, ah, got kidnapped together."

"What!"

"These guys wanted to get to Eliot and the team, I was there, Kyle was there. We're both fine but, ah, it was weird."

"Sounds it."

"Yeah kinda," Abby nodded, shifting to try and make herself more comfortable. "What about you? Any boys at your new school?"

Olivia blushed. "There's this one guy, he's the quarterback, he's gorgeous and has _no idea _I exist."

"Hang on, don't you go to some school for the elite? They have football teams?"

"Apparently, now I didn't know this, elite schools aren't just for chess prodigies, they're also for the sporting elite."

"That kinda sucks."

"Tell me about it, here I was thinking I was going to go to school and finally get to be the cool one! Instead, I'm _still _the chess geek."

Abby felt her pain. "You know what I think? Come college, we'll be the cool kids."

"Dear _god _I hope so!" Olivia smiled.

"And you know what else?" Abby continued, raising her eyebrows slyly. "This week, we're gonna get that guy to like you."

"How on earth are you going to do that?"

"I live with a bunch of grifters and thieves, you pick up a few things here and there," Abby smiled.

"But, but, you can't just make people do what you want?" she replied, still enthusiastic but with lack of understanding.

In her world, the chess world, you couldn't control opponent's pieces or actions. You could control your own, react to your opponent's moves and still win, but you couldn't control them. That was how she understood life; black and white and matter of factly.

In Abby's world however she was used to talking with others in a manner different, and saw the world differently to Olivia; for her, the way you moved your pieces, the way you acted and your actions could _easily _influence someone to do something else.

"Watch me!" Abby grinned in response as her uncle yelled out from down the stairs. Still smiling, she jumped up off the bed and began to enthusiastically run out the room.

"Oh believe me, I will!" she replied, matching Abby's enthusiasm and followed her, giggling out of the room.

Abby bounded quickly down the stairs and then, upon reaching the bottom, slid in her socks across the marble floor towards her uncle.

"Havin' fun there?" he asked.

"Absolutely," she smiled.

"Imma head off, you _sure_ you're okay here for the week?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "I'll be fine, we're gonna have fun and I know you're probably gonna be ten minutes away anyway," she grinned.

"Probably," he agreed. "And promise me you ain't gonna do anythin' stupid and you'll text me wherever you're going?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she whined.

"Promise?" he asked again, raising his brow.

"I promise okay," she obliged, giving him a loving hug.

"I'll see you in a week then?" he confirmed.

"Yes DyaDya, you will see me in a week," she agreed kissing him on the cheek.


	61. Sterling Equals Trouble

Since Abigail had re-entered his life, it was rare that he got to enjoy himself it the way that he used to; go out to some bars, listen to some good music, drink a good beer and other similar activities. He didn't, in anyway, blame her for the change, she was more than worth it, but he was glad to be able to let go a little. And, in spite of the fact that he _hated _she was spending the week at Sterling's (he couldn't even think the name without growling), he liked the fact that it gave him some rare time to himself.

He was sitting at a bar (goodness knows how he'd stumbled onto it) but it had live (and good) music, a great selection of beers and whiskeys and several beautiful women, one of which who was paying particular attention to him, and he to her.

Their lips were almost touching when he felt his phone buzz from his jeans pocket. He sighed as he pulled it out, but answered immediately.

"_Eliot_," she stated; the wavering in her voice indicated to Eliot that something was wrong.

"Abby? What's wrong?" he questioned worriedly as his shoulders tensed, he straightened up his back and turned away from the beautiful brunette.

"_It's Sterling, he didn't come back last night and there's a sketchy looking car out the front and Livy's freaking out and can you please come over?" _Her plea was rambled, just like it always was when she was nervous.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes, okay darlin'?" He stood up and lifted his jacket off the back of his chair while simultaneously pulling his wallet out. "Keep the doors locked and stay safe."

He hung up the phone and pulled a twenty and placed it on the bar. The woman gave him a disappointed look as he swung his jacket on.

"Sorry sweetheart," he apologised. "Family emergency," he explained, already making his way out the door.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What happened?" Eliot asked, embracing the nervous teenager and giving a reassuring nod towards Olivia as he burst through the door.

"I don't know," Abby shrugged.

"My dad didn't come home last night," Olivia explained.

"You waited 'till now to call?" Eliot questioned, gesturing them both towards the kitchen; the most defensible room in this house. He wasn't really expecting a breach or any trouble, but it always paid to be safe.

"He gets caught up at work sometimes and stays at the office," Olivia defended aggressively. There was slight anger in her voice, as though she felt attacked in some way. Eliot ignored the hostility; it was to be expected.

"And the car out front?"

Abby leant back against the kitchen island while Olivia paced nervously, her head playing through possible permutations of chess games; it helped keep her calm, gave her the illusion of some sort of control.

"Four and a quarter hours," Abby replied, without skipping a beat.

"Do you know what's going on?" Olivia questioned, pausing her pacing and looking sternly towards Eliot.

"Your dad decided it'd be a good idea to go after De La Court, apparently on his own," Eliot explained. It was a guess, but a good one. He knew Sterling was stupid, but he never thought he'd actually go after an arms dealer, let alone this one, without backup.

"Who's De La Court?" both Olivia and Abby asked in unison.

"He's an arms dealer."

"Wait, De La Court?" Olivia confirmed. "I heard my dad talking on the phone to someone about him before he left for work yesterday. He said something about setting up a meet?"

"You know who he was talking to?" Eliot asked.

"No idea," Olivia shook her head. "What do we do?"

"You," he looked at Olivia, "and you," he continued, turning to Abigail whom he raised his brow at, knowing she'd mostly likely get involved, "don't do anything."

Abby wanted to protest, she wanted to help out, but she said nothing, knowing she'd be better just staying with Livy.

"I'll fix it," Eliot continued simply.

"And what about the car out front?" Olivia asked, her tone still slightly hostile.

Eliot looked over his shoulder to the foyer, in the general direction of the mysterious car. He did the calculations; it could be Interpol waiting for Sterling to return or babysitting the house. It could be the FBI (or various other not so friendly, not so legitimate agencies) waiting to take down Eliot knowing he was in town. It could be De La Court and his men waiting to make a move. It could be someone parking their car outside a house. Most likely, the odds weren't in their favour.

Then, as he was considering this options, the door-bell rang. Immediately, he tensed up and grabbed a large chef's knife (which looked unused) from the magnetic knife strip on the wall and gestured Abby and Olivia to be quiet and stay put.

He cautiously made his way to the front door, careful to keep his head low so as to avoid anyone shooting through the wood to his head. For the same reason, he peaked out of the side window rather than the peephole to see who was waiting on the other side.

He was pleasantly surprised, and somewhat confused, at who he found.

"Would you just open the damn door Spencer," he heard Vance curse. Eliot smiled and did as he was told, Vance giving him a crushing hand-shake as the door was opened. "What brings you to my neck of the woods huh?"

"I should be asking you what's bringing you here," Eliot retorted, checking outside and the mysterious car, still not entirely at east. "That was you in the car?"

"That, is Agent Fleming with Interpol," Vance replied. He stepped one leg back out onto the porch and gave the car a condescending wave.

"So this _is_ about De La Court?" Eliot confirmed as he saw the driver side of the car open and an exceptionally beautiful woman with flowing blonde hair, flawless skin and perfectly kept suit step out of the vehicle.

"Agent Fleming," Vance greeted as the woman began to walk up the steps.

"Colonel Vance, what are you doing here?" she asked in a London accent. She seemed agitated with the man.

"Same as you, I'm on the trail of De La Court," he explained, gesturing the woman inside. Eliot stood aside to let the woman pass and, after she entered the house, he popped his head back outside to check for anything suspicious. Satisfied, he stepped back inside and locked up.

"I'm on the trail of one of my missing agents," she corrected shaking her head.

"So Sterling is missing?" Eliot confirmed. For the first time, Fleming turned to face him and looked him up and down.

"Yes," she said cautiously. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Eliot Spencer," he greeted.

"Are you a friend or colleague?" She seemed suspicious.

Eliot snickered. "Neither, just a disgruntled acquaintance trying to help out his concerned daughter." Her mouth opened slightly out of surprised. "And you are?"

"Agent Cassidy Fleming, Interpol. I work with James," she stated in a professional and well-rehearsed manner as she made her way further into the house.

"I don't even know why you're here Vance," she declared, her accent growing stronger alongside her frustration. "The NSA's never really cared about De La Court before."

"It just became our problem," he replied ominously.

"What do you mean?" she asked, highly concerned.

"We believe that De La Court has just sold a long range missile to person's unknown to be used within the next fourty eight hours. "

XXXXXXXXX

_You all knew this Sterling thing would mean trouble, all of you. _

_So, what I'm doing, is writing in the team's season 4/5 break shenanigans in with Abby. So, I can promise things will get interesting. _

_Sorry i wasn't able to get back to all of your reviews! But they were all wonderfully appreciated. _

_This time round I will, I promise!_

_Xx A Lyrical Dreamer_


	62. Chess Clues

"Are you sure they should be here?" Cassidy asked, eyeing off both of the teenagers as the five of them sat around the kitchen in Sterling's household. They had made their way into the kitchen, prepared to discuss the potential disaster that was facing them.

Eliot stood domineeringly near the door, his arms spread out wide on the island as he lent forward. Olivia quietly observed, but was not in any way pensive; she was ready to shout at a moment's notice. Agent Fleming stood skittishly at the kitchen side of the bench, Vance helped himself to a glass of juice from the fridge and Abby sat on a stool next to her uncle.

"You try and keep them out of this," he joked. "And besides, they come in handy," Abigail grinned. "Occasionally," he added, seeing the smug grin on his niece's face.

Cassidy shrugged and turned her attention to Olivia. "How are you doing Liv?" she asked compassionately; the two had met several times through her father.

"Where's my dad?" Olivia asked, ignoring the woman's sympathy.

"Well the good news is, we think he's okay," Cassidy explained, redirecting her attention to everyone else in the room.

"But you don't know where he is?"

"Not precisely." She gave a small, unconsoling smile. "But I wouldn't worry, James has a unique way of handling his cases."

Eliot and Abby smirked. "Is that so?" Eliot asked.

"That's right." There was a confused look on Cassidy's face. "He once hid in the boot of a car for three days to crack a case." It was evident she was utterly enamoured with the Brit.

"Is that what he told you?" Eliot laughed again.

"Yes," Cassidy said quite seriously, then shook her head and turned her attention back to the issue at hand. "So De La Court has been on the NSA's," she said looking at Vance, "and Interpol's radar for years but we can't locate or determine any specific allegiances, or have been able to make a move on him."

"Look, I've been trying to nail De La Court for years," she began and the hitter raised his eyebrows in slight surprise. The woman didn't look nearly old enough to have been searching (no, hunting, Eliot decided for she was certainly too involved) for several years. "But last week, Interpol, um, transferred me off the case," Cassidy continued and for the first time her body language shifted and she appeared timid and exposed. "It got handed off to James and, for whatever bloody reason he decided to go after him straight away."

"Why'd they transfer you?" Abby asked. Once again, Fleming grew rigid and intense.

"They thought I was getting too involved," she explained and Vance snorted, spitting his juice on the bench in front of him.

"Too involved?" He looked around for a cloth. "You stormed into the director's office demanding _unquestionable_ leeway and when he wouldn't give it to you, you did it anyway."

"Like your method is any different," she spat angrily as Olivia walked over to the sink and pulled out a wash cloth.

That wasn't entirely false. Vance's methods usually involved gathering a less than legitimate team, engaging in less than legitimate actions to achieve partially legitimate results. The difference was, unlike Cassidy, Vance did it _very _under the radar.

"His method involves not asking for permission and then _not_ getting caught," Eliot explained as Olivia tossed the sponge at Vance's chest. Water from the cloth spattered out and onto his chest and face. He ignored the moisture and began to clean up his mess.

"And why'd Sterling make a move?" Vance asked, trying to wrap his head around the strange character he was meant to be rescuing.

"Personal gain," Eliot said crassly. "Sterling'll take any chance he gets to take a win. 'Specially a big one."

"You really think he went after De La Court to, what, pad out his resume?" Vance scoffed in disbelief, looking at the others to laugh at the joke as well.

"I think he would," Abby confessed quietly, absent mindedly swinging from side to side in the bar stool.

"She's right," Olivia confessed, trying somewhat to mask the disappointment in her voice. Eliot had about to say the same thing, but had hesitated, not wanting to alienate the girl any further than he'd sure Sterling had already done. "My dad likes to win."

"That, and we were running out of time," Agent Fleming confirmed. The silence pressed her to elaborate her purposefully vague statement. "De La Court's slowly moving his business elsewhere so another Interpol sector is coming in to take over."

"Why is it so important that you be the one to take him down?" Eliot asked quietly, not entirely convinced about Cassidy's motives.

"I've worked too hard for this," she said meekly, then grew strong again as continued to discuss the issue at hand. "Look, we think we have a location on James but his last communiqué was… confusing at the least." She pulled the phone out of her back pocket and placed it forcefully on the table, trying clearly to shift the focus anywhere away from her. It spun a little bit before she steadied it with her hand. "He sent a voice message; 'Knight to H5, Rook to C53, Pawns to H5."

After a moment of silence all eyes turned to Olivia. "What? Because it's chess I _must _know the answer," she whined sarcastically then let out a disgruntled huff. "Well, C53 isn't even on the chess board but the rook is referring to you." She looked at Eliot. "Rook, crook," she explained at his questioning look.

"Crook?" Cassidy asked concernedly, but she was promptly ignored. Vance let out a small laugh.

"I've no idea what the C53 is," Olivia confessed.

"C53 was a military coup orchestrated by the Brits and by the CIA to overthrow the government of Iran back in Fifty-three," Eliot explained.

"Sterling's in Iran?" Abigail asked in disbelief.

"Or the missile, or De La Court," he replied, without looking her in the eye. He doubted that the idea that going overseas to disarm a long range missile was going to go down well.

"Well, what about the Knight to H5?" Vance asked, pulling his phone from his jacket pocket and texting a few of his men to prepare a charter to Middle East.

"That one _is _a chess move," Olivia. "And that's referring to Dad. He was always the knight."

"Modest, I'n't he?" Eliot muttered under his breath.

"And the H5?" Cassidy questioned, ignoring Eliot's clear bitterness towards Sterling.

"It's probably referring to a place," she guessed. "I, I don't know where." She seemed upset with herself.

"Then who are the pawns?" Abby asked.

Olivia looked at Cassidy. "You, probably."

"Well then what does all that mean?" the agent asked and Olivia rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm not exactly a chess player," was her reply to Olivia's subtle cheek.

"It means," Olivia began, "he's gone to H5, wherever that is, he wants Eliot to go Iran to take down the missile or whatever of De La Court's stuff, then he wants you," she looked at Cassidy, "to swoop in to wherever he his, help him and probably arrest De La Court."

"That's simple," Abby joked.

"It's doable," Cassidy stated.

"Iran eh?" Vance stated, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Haven't been there since oh-eight. That job with the tagine-"

"And Shelley's backhand," Eliot laughed.

"Are you quite finished gentlemen?" Cassidy asked, raising her brow at them both.

In frustration, Vance pursed his lip and Eliot ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth. "Looks like we're going to Iran," Vance finally spoke up. "If you're sure you can figure out where Sterling is," he added to Cassidy.

"There's nothing you can trace?" Eliot asked; Cassidy seemed to green to him to get the job done. "Phones? Beepers?"

The female agent shook her head. "His phone's turned off and this isn't the 90's anymore, people don't use beepers anymore." There was a smugness to her voice.

Eliot returned with a haughty laugh. "Does Interpol know they can trace a phone when it's off."

Vance joined in the laughter, directing his amusement at Eliot. "What? _You're _doing tech now. You?"

Eliot ignored the second dig in less than a minute at him, and pulled out his phone. "Hardison," he greeted then cleared his throat.

"_Eliot? I thought we were meant to be going dark for 6 weeks?"_

"I'll keep it short. I need you to trace a phone number for me."

"_Uh, sure," _Eliot heard shuffling as he pulled out his laptop. "_Anything wrong?"_

"Nothing I can't handle. It's switched off, won't be a problem will it?" He shot a smug glance at Cassidy, who looked down, disappointed with herself.

"_You're kiddin' me right? Who do you think I am, the FBI?" _

Vance, standing next to Eliot, could easily hear the phone call and, at the line, chuckled.

"_Uh, okay, ready when you are."_

"Okay, the number is," Eliot pulled the speaker side of the phone and looked to Olivia.

"5626 3189," she said after clearing her throat.

"You catch that?" the hitter confirmed but he could already here Hardison tapping away at keys.

"_I did indeed and do you _want _to tell me why I'm tracing Sterling's phone?" _The owner details had come up as he was trying to switch the phone back on and start a trace.

"Not really," he replied.

"_Okay, got a trace. Valley Hunt Club, down in Pasadena." _

"Great, thanks Hardison," Eliot hung up the phone and slid it back into his pocket. "Valley Hunt Club, ring any bells?" He looked at Cassidy, then Olivia for longer for answers.

"Uh, yeah," Olivia replied, somewhat surprised. "When I was a kid, we used to go up to this golf course in Pasadena," Olivia began, her hands explaining alongside her words. "Whenever I got the ball in I would always try and give my dad a high five but I could never say it, so it just used to sound like hi-fi-"

"H Five," Abby concluded and Olivia nodded. "But why would you're dad be at a golf course?"

"He used to do business there with rich clients, no reason for him to do any different now."

'"I'll head over there with a team," Cassidy said with determination in her voice as she gathered herself to leave.

"Plane's set to leave in an hour and a half," Vance added.

"I'll meet you at the airport okay?" Eliot stated, flicking a glance at Olivia and Abby.

"Got it," Vance agreed, then turned to Cassidy. "Don' screw this up," he said to her bluntly. Cassidy turned in a huff and left. Vance grinned and rapped on the kitchen bench with his knuckles. "See you at the airport."

XXXXXXXXXX

_ - _of course she will and of course she is! you clearly know what's up

_Crisdin- _glad you liked it! and there's plenty more to come


	63. Maggie

Abby fidgeted as Eliot knocked on the door, Olivia, on the other hand, was surprisingly calm. It was late now, well into the night, so it was a few moments before the door was answered with a surprising look from Maggie.

"Eliot?" she questioned in astonishment, wrapping up the thin summer robe she was wearing tighter around her body. Her tired eyes and messed her were an indication that she had clearly just woken up. "Olivia? Abby?" she looked down at each in turn, the bags in their hands then back up at Eliot. "What's going on? Is James okay?"

Eliot nodded. "As far as we know," he told her and Olivia squirmed slightly.

"Come in, come in," she beckoned after a moment of silent panic and staring into space. The girls were ushered in first by Eliot who followed after wiping his feet politely on the welcome mat.

"Are they okay to stay here for a few days?" Eliot asked in a hushed tone after they were shepherded into the living room.

"Why?" she asked, sincere concern in her voice. Eliot took a few moments to explain the situation to her and, after rubbing her hands nervously up and down her lap she agreed without hesitation. "Of course," she declared, then looked at the girls. "Of course. We'll have a fun girl weekend. I'm sure they're both desperate for that."

"Thankyou," Eliot smiled then stood up off the couch and looked at Abigail. Taking the hint, Maggie also stood up, gesturing Olivia away.

"I'll take you to the guest room," she said politely, leading Olivia down the hall.

"I remember where it is Maggie," the teenager replied.

"I know," she whispered, ushering her along and Abby and Eliot were left in the living room.

"I don't really want you to go to Iran," she admitted quietly.

"I know, but that's not really a choice for you to make."

"I know, just promise you'll stay safe?" she looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"I promise," he agreed. "I got Vance watching my back, Agent Cassidy over here doin' her thing. Everything's gonna be fine."

"Yeah," she said, still trying to reassure herself. Then, unexpectedly, she leapt in for a hug.

Eliot, taken slightly by surprise, stumbled backwards for a moment before he regained his balance and wrapped his arms around her.

Still, after 16 and a half years of the same thing, she didn't react any differently towards him going away on a job.

"Will you bring me back something cool from Iran?" she asked as he released his grip and kissed her on the forehead.

"Only if you promise to stay out of trouble and take care of Olivia."

"Deal," she smiled as Maggie walked back into the room. Eliot granted her a nod of thanks and made his way to the door.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

At four am Olivia crawled into the study where Abby was sleeping on a fold out couch. It was unbearably hot and the curtains were flowing in the breeze of the open window. Without moving, or giving any indication that she had even awoken at Olivia's quiet entrance, Abby spoke softly.

"Don't you sleep?" she asked, then continued to lay still for a moment before she rolled over and sat up against the back cushion. Olivia walked over and plonked herself on the end of the bed.

"Couldn't," Olivia replied simply and Abby nodded, understanding completely. She used to be like that herself. The restless, sleepless nights when Eliot was away had grown uncomfortably familiar but, over time, she'd learnt that not sleeping wasn't helping anyone and had gradually been able to fall back into her normal sleep pattern. It had been a long road there though, and she didn't envy Olivia's current state of mind. Looking at her, Abby could see she was uneasy and wanted something, but that she was also too uneasy to ask so, after several moments of silence, Abby spoke first.

"Do you come here a lot?" Sweat was beading down her neck so she pulled her thick hair up off her back and into a looping bun. Olivia looked at her quizzically. "Come on, you know where the spare room is, got towels out for me earlier. You've been here a couple of times before at least."

Her friend looked at her with playful anger. "Damn you're good. And yes, I come here a lot, when Dad's away and then, sometimes when he's not."

"Oh yeah?" Abby replied playfully.

"Yes," Olivia rolled her eyes. "They've been seeing each other for a while now and it's good, 'cause I like Maggie." She was silent again after that, only shifting her weight and giving Abby a look that indicated she wanted to talk, but couldn't quite form the words to.

"What?" Abby asked, pushing her friend.

"Do you think we could," she began meekly then paused. "Do you think we could go down to the Club? Watch everything going down? It's just…" she trailed off, not knowing exactly how to explain why it would comfort her. She was sure it would, but she couldn't find the words to articulate it.

"No, it's okay, I get it," Abby quickly interjected, reassuring her that she understood completely. "We can but, I don't, uh, wanna just take Maggie's car. I mean, she's nice and I don't want to just leave her in the dark."

Olivia looked sheepishly down at the sheets. "Right, of course," she agreed, her shrugging shoulder's emphasising her disappointment.

"Well, you know her better than I, why don't you go ask her," Abby suggested, shifting her legs as one grew numb and tingly.

"No," Olivia said, almost shamefully. "It's okay, I'll just hop back to bed." She swung her legs out from underneath her and begun to get up.

"Olivia," Maggie said softly from door. She was wrapped, once again, in her nightgown and leaning against the door frame. "I'd be happy to take to down," she offered with a sincere smile. "If you promise to stay out of trouble." Maggie looked straight at Abigail. The decree was clearly intended only for her.

Olivia nodded eagerly and jumped onto floor. "I'll go get dressed," she announced then bounded enthusiastically out of the room, smiling gleefully at Maggie as she did.

Abby flicked the sheet off of her legs and nodded at Maggie. "I'll see you both downstairs in five minutes!" she yelled out, then stepped out into the hall and closed the door for her to change.

XXXXXXXX

Ann Ryce, -_Of COURSE they're going to get into trouble! (spoilers, sorry)_

_Crisdin- Aww! Your comments made me smile so much! description is something that I struggle with so thankyou so much for your comments. And comment about Cassidy noted =)_

_More to come,_

_Love always, ALD xx_


	64. Five Minutes

They pulled up to the club at four thirty. SWAT, police and other emergency services were swarming around the area and the flashing blue and red lights covered the dark night in an ominous hue. The three women stepped out of the car into the dry, uncomfortable heat. The two girls fidgeted nervously, but it manifested itself in different ways, for different reasons for both girls.

Olivia, while running over as many chess permutations as she could in her head, swiped, tapped and toyed with her fingers in patterns matching the moves in her head. Abby on the other hand bit her lip, tapped her foot and fiddled with Eliot's necklace, running it along the chain from one end to the other. Surprisingly, even though several cops had rushed passed them, no one had stopped, or even tried to talk to them. With their tunnel vision, they didn't even notice how out of place they looked in their singlets and shorts.

"Olivia?" Cassidy asked as she walked down the driveway beside a uniformed officer. With a baffled look upon her face, she handed the officer a file and walked down towards where Maggie, Abby and Olivia were waiting. "What are you doing here?"

"Did you find my dad?" she asked, blatantly ignoring the question.

"Why are you here? You shouldn't be here," she retorted, carefully enunciating every word in her frustration.

"I brought them," Maggie interjected, flashing a smile that could put almost anyone at ease. She extended her hand.

"Maggie, yes?" Cassidy questioned, twisting from looking down at the teen to be face to face with Maggie. She shook her hand with the forceful grip of a police officer. "Sterling's talked a lot about you."

Maggie smiled again, only this time it was more bashful. "That's sweet," she noted offhandedly, though she wasn't particularly fond of being mentioned in whispers. "She just wants to know if her father's okay." She stared at Cassidy sincerely in the eye for a moment. The agent kicked her foot in the gravel and looked down at her shoes before looking at Olivia in the eye.

"You're father's fine," she informed the girl who let out a sigh of relief as her body relaxed instantly. She then let out a contented smile which spread across her face from ear to ear. Abby, on the other hand continued to fidget a little more intensely. "He's up at the club still," Cassidy continuing gesturing up to the lavish building on the hill, "dealing with something. But he's okay, he's fine."

"Can I?" she asked, peering up the hill in eagerness and anticipation.

"Active crime scene Liv, I'm afraid not, but," she held her finger up and grabbed the radio that was hanging off her hips. "Marko, this is Cassidy, can you send Sterling down please."

"_Roger that," _a voice, presumably Marko, cracked over the radio.

"Thank you,"

"Did you find out anything about the missile?" Abby quickly asked. She'd been fidgeting, itching to ask the question since they'd gotten there. It was the only thing on her mind, especially now that Sterling was safe; find information so that Eliot could do his job safely. She may not be able actually, physically help Eliot and his slightly scary army buddy (and nor would she want to) but she could do what she was good at; knowledge. That is, if she could get the information.

"Ah, not yet," Cassidy replied, placing the walkie back on her belt then situated her hands on her waist.

Abby shook her head in surprise. "Well, did you get De La Court?"

"Yes, but he's not talking," she stated, clearly trying to be dismissive. "And he's very smug about it." Abby spoke again quickly.

"You do realise there's a missile set to go off in like," she paused, grabbed Olivia's wrist and looked at her watch, "thirty six minutes." The derision in her voice as the time pressure pressed up against her like an unyielding force.

Cassidy, unimpressed with being questioned (especially by a teenager) snapped with little hesitation. "You think I don't know that!" Maggie looked surprised at the aggression and, realising what she'd done, Cassidy closed her eyes and took a calming moment to herself. She focused on her breathing, in and out, until she opened her eyes and continued with new found inner peace. "Look, De La Court has lawyered up, we _can't _talk to him."

Abby took a sharp intake of breath through her nostrils, then let it out slowly. She too, although it was uncommon for her, trying to stop herself from lashing out. "Well what about his men?"

Cassidy shook her head. "They're too loyal, they're not going to talk."

"Do you wanna bet?" she smiled smugly then slipped her phone out of her pocket.

"Abigail," Maggie warned in an incredibly motherly tone. The teen obliged and looked up at her. "I thought we agreed no trouble? Not to mention I doubt Eliot would be very impressed." She dismissed Maggie's motherly nature; it was sweet to have someone who cared like she did (not that Sophie didn't care, it's just she cared in her non-normal grifter like way). She did not however dismiss the fact that she _had _agreed that she wouldn't get into trouble that Eliot would hardly be pleased.

"Maggie, I know but someone has to get that info or else Eliot and what's his name will have nothing to go on and a lot of people are going to die," she tried to convince her but Maggie wasn't as easily conned as some.

"No," she said sternly shaking her head. "We said no trouble. Eliot wouldn't let you and neither will I."

The teen paused looking for another angle. "It'll be less than five minutes and Cassidy will be there the whole time."

"I _beg _your pardon!" Cassidy exclaimed in disgust.

"Please Maggie," Abby begged, ignoring the agent's clear irritation.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Maggie asked, though it wasn't clear to the teen if she was caving or not.

She nodded eagerly despite Cassidy's annoyance. Cassidy rolled her eyes and huffed. "She's a teenager, what is she going to get out of De La Court's men that any of my agents can't?"

"I can do it Maggie," Abby assured. She turned so she was facing further away from Cassidy, who was annoying her incessantly.

"Fine, go." Maggie nodded reluctantly towards the wagon sitting most of De La Court's men. Abby gripped Maggie's hands in thanks and smiled joyfully.

"Thankyou Maggie." She turned to Cassidy's, whose face was stern with frustration, nodded at her and marched with determination towards the van.

"Five minutes!" Maggie reminded as Cassidy followed the teen reluctantly.


	65. Four Minutes Fifteen

"You've been working on this case for a while yeah?" Abby asked marching towards the prisoner transport vehicle without turning back to look at the agent.

"Yes," Cassidy huffed. Abby could almost feel her rolling her eyes.

"You know the people De La Court works with yes?"

"Yes."

"Who's the outsider?"

"A man called Finley but he's never going talk-"

"Not with that attitude he's not," she exclaimed as she reached the van. She rapped on the outside, drawing the attention on the hoard of criminals sitting uncomfortably inside. "Finley!" she announced and the youngest of the men with short cut hair looked up. "Let's talk." He shifted in his seat, uncertain of what to do. Despite however, her stern stare and to the point attitude, he didn't move any further. It was probably her clothes, she concluded. Her shorts, singlet and tartan shirt didn't exactly scream 'authority figure' and this wasn't going to work without legitimacy. And the legitimacy of her appearance hadn't been something she'd considered when she'd stepped into this almost spontaneously.

So, as much as it vexed her she twisted slightly and looked at Cassidy for some support. She very slightly rolled her eyes but stepped forward and yelled in a booming voice. "Finley. Now!"

The man jolted in his seat and climbed out over his companions, trying to avoid their discerning stares. Abby stepped back a little intimidated by the thug while Cassidy gripped the man by the forearm and marched him to the front of the car. Abby made sure to halt them where his colleagues could see him.

"You know about the missile?" Abby asked him looking at him up and down. He stared straight at her with intense eyes and rigid body.

"I decline to answer," he replied with a thick Brooklyn accent. She had expected his answer to be evasive but it may has well have been a yes.

"You know where the missile is?" she continued.

"I decline to answer." Again a yes.

"Are you sure?" His face didn't change, it just remained solid and stiff. "Okay then." Abby let out a corporate smile then directed her attention towards Agent Cassidy standing behind the felon. "Can you undo his handcuffs for me?'

"Excuse me?" Cassidy asked in surprise. Her irritation towards the teen was growing old.

"Just oblige me." Cassidy breathed a now patented sigh, pulled a set of handcuff keys from her belt then turned Finley around. A partially confused, partially joyous, slightly worried look spread across his face as Cassidy undid the cuffs. The agent spun him back around to Abby who was holding her hand out ready for him to shake. He looked down at it, then back up at her again, his face still quizzical.

"Wha-"

"Just to thank you for your time," she interrupted before he could spit the question from his mouth. He hesitated then shrugged as he lightly shook the teen's hand. "Great well, you're free to go."

"What?" he asked.

"What?" Cassidy questioned, just as surprised. "He didn't even answer any questions."

"That's true," Abby agreed. "But his colleagues don't know that so when he walks free no doubt they're going to think he's a snitch."

"I'll, I'll get killed," he stammered. It was the first time he'd even slightly broken.

"Perhaps, or you could tell us the information we want and Agent Cassidy here will arrest you again. Your colleagues never have to know."

He contemplated the deal for a moment; the choice between prison or death was apparently a difficult one. "There are small mountains," he began reluctantly. "50 kilometres west of the Hoz-e Soltan Salt Lake. The missile is in there."

"Thank you Mr Finley, Agent Cassidy will now lock you up with your colleagues." She left Cassidy with the somewhat relieved criminal and made her way back towards the Maggie and Olivia. "Less than five minutes right?"

"Four minutes, fifteen," Olivia informed them, glancing down at her watch.

"Told you I could do it." Abby slapped Maggie lightly on the arm and lent past her so she could pull the car door open. She reached inside and grabbed her phone out of the back seat.

"Calling Eliot?" Maggie asked as Abby placed her mobile to her ear.

"Yeah," she replied to the curator as she heard Eliot pick up at the other end. The line was crackled and the sound of a helicopter was rattling off in the background.

"_Abby?" _he yelled over the noise.

"Yeah. We got Sterling," she said, skipping straight to the point knowing that time was short. "50 ks West of the Hoz-e Soltan Lake. I think it's about 120 k's out of Teheran," she heard Eliot relaying the location to the pilot.

_"__I don't know how you got the info Abs but I better not be pissed off about how you got it," _came his reply. "_I'll see you when I get back okay?"_

"Definitely."

_"__Stay safe okay?"_ he pleaded.

"You too," she replied as out of the corner of her eye she saw Sterling walking down the driveway, a uniformed officer on his arm. She hung up the phone just as Sterling frustratedly shook the police officer off his arm.

"Dad!" Olivia yelled, bounding forward to embrace her father. Olivia yelled as she ran into the Interpol offices. Her father, dressed in a suit with an open collar looked exhausted but unharmed as he stretched his arms out to hold his daughter.

"Olivia," he replied, gripping her as hard as he could and caressing her soft hair with his hands.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she mumbled.

"That's good to hear Olivia. And thank you for figuring it all out sweetheart," he let her go but held her hand as they walked down to the others. As they reached the car Maggie leapt onto the man (at which point Olivia let go and went to lean on the car next to Abby) and kissed him on the cheek. Abby let it slide that Sterling had given neither her, Cassidy, Eliot or Vance any credit whatsoever.

"Eliot and Vance are setting down in Iran now," Abby supplied.

"And, as you can see, we found you. I say we did pretty well," Olivia said proudly. She grinned her teeth at Abigail, proud of their teamwork.

"And we got De La Court," Cassidy added walking up from behind them.

"So what happened?" Maggie asked with deep concern in her voice as she hung lovingly off Sterling's arm.

"I thought my alibi was airtight, but the second I walked in, he knew I was Interpol," he explained. "Bastard locked me in a broom closet, of all places. But," he continued proudly, "I managed to get out that message before they took my phone."

"Good thing you did, otherwise we'd've had nothing to go on," Abby informed him.

"You don't still need us here do you?" Sterling asked the blonde agent, only partially acknowledging Abby's comment with a minor nod. He didn't really need to acknowledge it, he knew it couldn't have been done without him.

"No, you can all go," Cassidy said much too quickly. It was obviously apparent, through her huffs, rolled eyes and sarcastic tone that she was done with having teenagers and thieves show her up. "I'm sure your young friend here will keep you updated." She looked at Abby, who shrugged off the obvious dig.


	66. The Collins Home

In the car, driving back to Maggie's house on the other side of town, the woman couldn't help notice Abby's fidgeting. The way she repetitive glances at the clock on the dash, then on her phone, and incessant checking for messages and missed calls. Once or twice, she even switched the mobile onto silent, then back onto loud again, just to make sure she wouldn't miss anything.

Sterling and Olivia had driven back in his car which had been sitting in the carpark of the club for the last day or so.

"Everything's going to be fine Abigail," Maggie reassured, offering her a quick but kind glance.

"Hm?" Abby asked as she was ripped from her repetitive thoughts. She looked at Maggie, asking her to repeat whatever comment she had just made and missed.

"Eliot, the missile, it's all going to be fine," she repeated, elaborating this time for clarity.

"The thing's set to go off in two minutes Maggie, but I haven't heard anything from him," she began, looking towards the blonde. "I should have heard something by now." She looked down at her hand, clenched together between her knees.

"And you're worried?"

"Of course I'm worried!" the teen replied looking up once more. Her voice was filled with surprise and upset.

"It must be hard," Maggie empathised. "Eliot's job."

Abby shrugged. "I'm used to it by now."

"But?"

"But it doesn't make it any easier."

"And what happened in Boston, that can't have been easy either," Maggie added. The car turned a corner and soft light flooded the car from the suburban street lights.

"How-"

"Olivia mentioned it," she replied quickly. "You know sometimes it helps to have a buffer outside of your own family to talk to. I'm always here to talk if you need."

"Thankyou Maggie, I appreciate that." Abby looked down at the time on her phone again, then up at the clock on the dashboard, hoping that one of them would be off. Just as she let out a concerned worrisome sigh, her phone buzzed. She jumped in her seat to answer it.

"Eliot?"

"_Yeah sweetheart, we're okay, the missile's out of action," _he jumped straight into the explanation. "_We're okay," _he said again just for extra reassurance.

Abby relaxed and sunk into her seat. Beside her, Maggie smiled in relief. "That's good to hear," Abby grinned, settling further into her seat, now that her mind was allowing her body to calm and relax. "Everything's good on this end too. Cassidy reckon's we'll have enough to put De La Court away for good."

"That's good to hear." She heard a car door slam and an engine begin to roar.

"You know, they should give you a medal for what you do." Eliot laughed on the other side of the phone.

"_You hear that Vance?" _Eliot joked.

"_Like you need another one."_

"You heading back to the states?"

"_Actually Abby, turns out we've got a bit more of De La Court's network here to dismantle," _he stated uncertainly.

"Oh." Abby's tone and body sunk almost immediately. Eliot heard her shift in mood and spoke up immediately.

"_I can come home if you want Abs."_

_"__Hey?" _Vance protested but Eliot waved him off.

"_I can come home if you want," _he repeated, as much for Vance's understanding as for Abby.

She sat in silence pondering. "No that's okay," she finally said, with hesitance in her voice. "You should do it, it's important."

_"__Thank you sweetheart,"_ he smiled. "_Why don't you stay the rest of the week with Maggie or Olivia and I'll put in a call to the others and you can stay with them for a while. Then maybe you can come meet me in Europe somewhere after I'm done."_

"Yeah, that'd be good," she agreed, her voice chirping.

"_I thought you would be. And please make sure you ask Maggie about staying with her."_

"I will," she assured, glancing at the woman as she turned the car into her driveway. "I love you," she chimed, unbuckling her seat belt and pulling it back over her shoulder.

"_Same here." _Both hung up their phones and Abby placed it down in her lap solemnly.

"So?" Maggie asked carefully. Despite the car being now parked in her garage, she hadn't opened the door or even unbuckled her seat belt, waiting patiently to hear what was happening.

"Eliot's staying in Iran to shut the rest of the network down," Abby explained, looking up at the woman. "He wants to know if it's okay with you if I stay here the rest of the week."

Maggie nodded quickly. "Of course it is. Is he coming back after that or?"

"He's gonna call the others and see if I can spend some time with them," she explained. "Then I'm gonna meet up with him overseas. Do some travelling." A slight smile slipped onto her face; that part of the plan she was particularly looking forward to. Maggie meanwhile smiled in relief that everything had more or less sorted herself out. So, now satisfied, she undid her seatbelt and stepped out of the car.

"You should go upstairs for some rest. I'm pretty tired myself too," she offered as Abby followed her out of the car, through the relatively empty garage and into the house.

Abby, who hadn't until now realised how tired she was, yawned and rubbed her eyes. "I think that's a good idea," she agreed. "Goodnight Maggie."

"Goodnight Abigail."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mhm, good morning sweetheart," Maggie cooed, standing at the stove in her thin, pale blue dressing gown. It was morning, sun was beaming through the windows and the smell of French toast wafted throughout the house as Sterling and Olivia let themselves in through the side door. Abby was sitting at the kitchen bench in her pyjamas, flicking through her phone and sipping on a glass of juice.

"Good morning dear," Sterling replied, placing his briefcase on the island bench and leaning in towards Maggie to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Morning Olivia, breakfast?" Maggie, turned on her feet and scooped to pieces of toast onto a plate. She pushed it forward, offering it to Abigail, who smiled in thanks.

"Yes please!" Olivia said eagerly. She slid into the stool next to Abby as the pan began to sizzle with fresh toast.

"None for me thanks," added James as Abby walked towards the fridge, grabbing out a bowl of fresh strawberries and the bottle of juice. After placing it on the island, she fished out some more glasses and cutlery out of the drawers and cupboards before sitting back down. She pushed a knife and fork towards her friend and placed the plate between them. Eagerly, they both dug into the food, showering it with berries and syrup.

"James, please tell me you're not working," Maggie said with a disappointing, but not surprised, tone as she glanced over her shoulder. Sterling, standing comfortably at the bench, had opened up his brief case and was now flicking through a stack of files.

"He was working all night," Olivia tattled as Abby smirked. The family banter between the three was sweet, and slightly amusing.

"James," Maggie scalded.

"Somebody gave me up, and I want to know who," he defended.

"Well, do you have to find out today? It's a big day." Her response was calm.

"Big day?" Abby asked, perking her head up curiously.

"There's a gallery opening today that Maggie's curating," Olivia supplied, somewhat proudly.

"Seriously? Why didn't you tell me when I asked to stay? I don't want to impose!"

"Abigail," Maggie laughed softly. "You are welcome here whenever."

"You're welcome at ours anytime too, right dad?" Olivia added.

"Of course; anytime" Abby was surprised when she heard sincerity in Sterling's voice. He was a different person really, when he wasn't working or in any sort of radius of the Leverage team. There was something about coming into contact with the crew that, she suspected, James found challenging, something which he took personally.

"We're going to be leaving in about an hour if you'd like to join us?" Maggie asked, and Abby was careful to hide a cringe; unlike the rest of her family, she didn't have a lot of interest in art. She knew about it (living with a group of art thieves she had to) but she didn't really like it, at all.

"Sure," the teen agreed eventually, offering a sweet smile as Maggie flipped another two toasts onto Abby's plate. Her and Olivia dug into it quickly.

"Good!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

_So, I'm back! _

_Crisdin- Sterling, is Sterling. When his ego's hurt, he gets snarky!_

_Next chapter, Abby plays matchmaker _

_xx ALD_


	67. The Gallery Opening

"Oh my goodness that's him!" Olivia exclaimed in a panic, grabbing Abby's arm and spinning her to face the nearest painting.

"Ow!" Abby stated plainly, glancing down at her friend's hand. "And it's who?"

"Teddy Nelson," she whispered, still gripping Abby's arm and marching her in the opposite direction of the boy. "The quarterback, the boy from school. He's here!"

"Which one?" Abby asked eagerly. Olivia turned around and began to point at the boy, but Abby grabbed her hand. "Don't point!" she exclaimed in an exasperated tone. "Just direct."

"Blue t-shirt standing next to the Matisse," Olivia directed as instructed. The words slipped through her mouth through gritted teeth.

Abby turned, eyeing Olivia to stay in her place, and faced her as if they were having a conversation so she could get a better look at the guy.

"He's cute," she admired with a smirk. "Go talk to him," she urged, patting her on the arm with encouragement.

"I'm not just gonna go _talk_ to him!" she dismissed in horror. "Are you crazy?"

"Fine," Abby said, letting out a grin. "Then I will." As a look of horror and shock came to Olivia's face, Abby pranced off towards the teenager, and Olivia was left gaping in the middle of the gallery with her arms crossed.

"I've never really had an admiration for Matisse myself," Abby declared softly as she positioned herself next to the boy. She looked carefully at the painting, admiring its unusual colours and textures.

"I like this one," Teddy replied, only giving Abigail a quick sidewards glance.

"Oh yeah?"

"The colours, they're joyful," he's explained. "And the medium is interesting."

"So you like art?" Abby asked, fishing for information.

"I'm more of a sport man myself," he confessed. "But my mother works in the art industry so, you grow up knowing a thing or two about it."

Abby, with her hand down at her side, gave Olivia a thumbs up and a sidewards glance.

"What about you? Do you like art?" he asked politely.

"Not really," Abby shook her head. "But my friend does, you should meet her." She gave Olivia a wave to come over. She did so sheepishly.

Teddy's eyes squinted as he began to recognise Olivia as she drew closer. "Um, Olivia right?"

Olivia let out a shy nervous smile at being recognised. "Yeah, and Teddy?" she replied nervously

"You two know each other?" Abby asked cheerfully, pointing to each with both of her hands. "What a coincidence"

"We go to school together," Teddy explained. "I saw you at the game the other day."

"Oh, yeah?" Olivia pushed her hair back nervously behind her hair. Teddy nodded. "You played well."

"And that chess tournament as well," he added. "You played well in that didn't you?"

Olivia's smile grew wider as she realised the boy had actually noticed her. At this point, Abby began to back away. "I'm going to go find Maggie."

Olivia turned her head and gave her a look of surprise, excitement and awe and mouthed the words 'oh my goodness' to Abigail as she slinked away into the crowd.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It took Abigail a solid ten minutes to find Maggie who was instructing a pair of ushers on one of the centrepiece paintings.

"Where's Olivia?" she asked upon seeing Abigail alone.

"Talking to a boy," she sing-songed.

"Oh dear," Maggie smiled. "Exciting for her, not so much for James. Speaking of," she lifted her head up towards her partner, making his way towards the two.

"This exhibit is wonderful Maggie, you should be proud," he complimented her, slipping his arm around her waist.

Yup, Abby thought, the team definitely brought out the worst in him.

"Where's Olivia," he asked, looking at Abby.

"She's catching up with someone from school," was her nonchalant reply, waving in the general direction of her friend. "And he's right Maggie, this is an amazing exhibit. Sophie and Nate would love, it. Actually, so would Parker."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Maggie smiled.

"I would, they all have impeccable taste in art." A slight bitterness returned to James' voice. "Drives me bloody insane," he muttered as an afterthought. Abby had no doubt his bitterness would have continued were it not for an elated Olivia, sprinting up to the others.

"Oh my goodness!" Olivia exclaimed, excitedly gripping Abby's arm, this time with both hands.

"What? What?" James asked in a slight panic.

"Fine, I'm fine," she assured with red cheeks, looking up at her father briefly, before turning back to Abigail. Olivia offered her a cheesy grin and perked up her eyebrows.

"Umm, we're gonna go get something to eat," Abby informed the adults as she giggled and pulled her friend away.

"What was that about?" Sterling muttered to Maggie as the teens whisked themselves away.

"A boy," Maggie gleamed. Sterling could only stutter in disbelief.

XXXXXXXXX

"I don't know what to wear? Or how to do my hair, or anything and I have to leave in half an hour!" Olivia exclaimed in a panic. In a plush bath robe, and hair wrapped up in a towel, she paced nervously about the room as Abby sat cross-legged on the elaborate four poster bed.

"Just relax, okay, we'll sort it out," Abby said calmly, brushing her hands through her hair. After Abby's little set up at the gallery earlier had resulted in Teddy inviting Olivia to his big game tonight. And then, Olivia had divulged very quietly, to the after party.

"No, no, no, I don't date! I play chess, and read, and don't date." She continued to pace up and down the room.

"You're kidding right? You, pretty much single-handedly, took down a nuclear arms dealer and got yourself back living with your dad! You did that, you can handle a date, with a sweet, art loving, Olivia crushing, quarterback."

Olivia stopped pacing and bit her lip. "You think so?"

"Yeah, absolutely," Abby assured.

Olivia let out a breath. "So what should I wear?"

28 minutes later Olivia, with subtle makeup, carefree hair, floral dress and tanned wedges was walking down the stairs to meet her date. "So I look good?" she asked with a crooked smile, spinning on her toes on the tiled floor. Her dress flared out in an arc of colour.

"Amazing!" Abby assured.

"You're sure you don't wanna come?" she asked not for the first time.

"Yes, you sure?" Sterling asked hopefully. He'd been reluctant to let his precious daughter go on a date with a quarterback of all people, but Maggie had convinced him otherwise. Once convinced, he was hoping that Abigail would be going with her and would be able to keep an eye on things. His plan was threatened when she reluctantly refused.

"Quite sure, Eliot might have a fit if I go to another party. Especially a football one," she explained, glancing at her watch. "You should get going."

"Yeah. Keys please?" She turned towards her father, holding her hands out in front of her. Reluctantly, Sterling dug his hands into his back pocket and pulled out the keys. They fell into her hand with a soft clink. "Please be home by midnight," he pleaded.

"Of course dad," she assured him. She turned to Abby and smiled. "See you later!"

"If anything happens I blame you," James muttered, after Olivia had hitched up her bag and walked out the door.

"You wouldn't dare," Abby grinned.

"Are you staying here tonight?" He walked into the kitchen, and Abby followed.

"If you don't mind, I wanna see how it goes."

"Of course not, let me know if you need anything."

XXXXXXXX

Olivia opened the door to her room slowly, with a dreamy look on her face. Lying on her bed, Abby looked up over her laptop and smiled at her friend. "How'd it go?"

The door swung closed slowly, and Olivia leant against in. She kicked her shoes off and walked into the room. "He kissed me," she finally offered in a soft, bashful tone.

"Told you you could date," Abby reminded her. "Now," she said eagerly, slamming her laptop lid down and leaning forward eagerly. "Tell me everything."

XXXXXXXX

For early in the morning the airport was bustling. Business travellers rushing to get to their business appointments on the other side of the country. The rest of her week with Maggie, Sterling and Olivia had been simple and enjoyable. They had made her feel perfectly at home.

"So you have everything you need?" Maggie asked for the third time, fussing with Abby's clothes. "Passport, phone, money?"

"I have everything Maggie, thank you," she replied patting her satchel hanging across her shoulder.

"And you're okay, I mean, you're okay?"

"Maggie, don't bother her," Sterling tutted.

"I'll be fine Maggie, Nate's waiting for me over in Heartford," she assured once more.

"Well, alright then," Maggie agreed reluctantly. "But call if you need anything."

"I will," she assured. "Bye Livy." Abby leant in to hug her best friend. She was slightly sad to be leaving; her and Olivia, and all of them really, had a lot in common but there was a bit more normalcy in their lives. Plus, her and Olivia got along like two peas in a pod.

"Bye Abby," Olivia replied, hugging back. "It's gonna be ages 'till I see you again yeah?"

"Probably," she replied disappointingly. "We live on the opposite sides of the country, so. We'll skype and text though yeah? And you _have _to keep me updated about Teddy." Olivia nodded shyly, trying to hide her bashful smile. "I should go. Thank you for having me James."

"No problem."

"Message us when you land, okay?" Maggie pleaded when she began to walk away, dragging her luggage towards check in.

"I will!" the teen promised, walking off in the crowd of bustling travellers.

_XXXX_

_Keep up the reviews guys, I love reviews!_

_Up next, Abby spends some time with Nate!_

_xx A Lyrical Dreamer _


	68. And A-Sailing We Go

"Grab that, that rope there," Nate instructed, pointing at the rope coiled around one of the posts sticking up from the pier. Nate was jumping onto the back end of the boat having already untied the rear end. Abby stood on the wharf near the fore of the yacht, desperately trying to figure out which of the seemingly hundred ropes Nate was referring to.

She gave up, unhooked the biggest one and leapt gracefully into the boat. "All good!" she exclaimed. Nate was standing by the steery thingy (although Abby was sure there was a technical term) a relaxed smile on his face. With a shake of his head he beckoned her over.

"Ever been sailing before?" He asked as he moved away from the wheel and let her step up. She wrapped her hands around the prongs and let her fingers trace over them a few times before they finally settled.

"Oh yeah," she replied. "I fit it in between my helicopter flying and astronaut training." Nate looked at her with an unimpressed frown. "Never, I have never been sailing," she corrected, dropping the sarcasm.

"Well," he slapped his hands together. The motion was not uncommon for the mastermind but there was an unusual tick about the movement. "PFD's are ah kept under that panelling over there." He pointed to a slab of flooring with a small silver ring attached. "There's also some under the seats down below."

In an exuberant amount of detail, he continued to explain the basics of sailing. Abby remained stationary at the wheel (although Nate had informed her it was called 'the helm'), her eyes darting back and forth and everything Nate was pointing out.

"Am I doing this right?" she asked finally, glancing down uncertainly at the helm. She gave the wheel a slight wiggle back and forth.

"Well, we're not moving, so you can't really be doing it wrong." He let out an uncomfortable laugh, and it was there Abby got a hint of what was going on in his head; he was nervous. About what she wasn't sure but there was something in his half faced, crooked smiles and ums and ah's that didn't fit right with his normal temperament.

"Ha ha," she said in a dry sarcastic tone, choosing to leave the issue alone for now. "But really."

"Yeah, its fine, it's fine," he replied then walked over to the helm. He reached behind Abby and flicked a switch. She looked at him with narrow eyes, questioning his actions.

"Engine." He edged in front of her and took control of the wheel, flicking down a pair of black sunglasses as he did.

"I thought this was a sail boat?" She stepped back as the engine began to rumble.

"It is," he assured. The boat began to drift away from the side and Abby ran over to the edge. She bent over the small metal barrier, letting the light sprays of salt water rain against her face. "But it's a tight marina and the wind's pulling the wrong way so this'll do 'till we get out in the open water."

As the boat begun to chug nicely along the water, Abby pulled herself back onto the deck. "Fair enough." She plopped herself down on the deck, her legs splayed out in front of her and arms supporting her behind her. After a moment of relaxation, she lifted her arm and reached for her back pack. With a laborious heave that suggested it took much more effort than it actually did, she pulled it onto her lap and dug about for the sunscreen.

"So who taught you to sail?" she asked, shaking the bottle up and down and squeezing a large blob of the liquid onto her palm.

"Uh, that would be my father. And when I was really young my grandfather." He stared out into the ocean; the dark glasses obscuring his eyes made it difficult for her to tell if it the situation with his father was what was making him nervous or not. "In between uh, bookmaking and various other criminal activity we used to go out sailing." He waved at a passing sailor who threw Nate a nod as their boat drifted out of the marina.

"That sounds nice," Abby commented as she rubbed the last streak off white off her leg. He looked down at her sitting comfortably on the ground.

"Look, uh," Nate began nervously, staring out into the horizon. "I wanted to apologise for Boston. I was selfish, and I put you in danger and I'm sorry. You have my word it won't happen again."

"You sure? You get tunnel vision sometimes, Nate."

"Very sure, when this all started out, I wasn't in a good place. Dubenich was the start of all that and him coming back made me regress. It's done now and I've moved on."

Crossing her legs beneath her, Abby nodded slowly, contemplating what he'd said. "I'm sorry about your dad," she apologised softly. Nate was silent for a moment before he cleared his throat with a grumbling cough.

"What are you doing down there?" he finally asked, moving on from the conversation; he'd said all he needed to say and she'd heard all she needed to hear.

Making herself comfortable on the deck, Abby looked down at herself then back up at Nate. "Sitting?"

"There's no sitting in sailing." He gestured her up with a heave of his arm. "Come on, we have work to do."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

As night fell, they drew closer to land, choosing to set the anchor down in a small inlet to protect them from any bad weather that might arise overnight. For now though, the water was perfectly calm as the sun over the horizon and turned the sky into a tangerine array. Enjoying the picture in front of them, they sat and ate their dinner of packet pizza and tinned fruit with their legs hanging over the port side.

"So I read that book you leant me," Abby stated, swallowing a bite of the strangely satisfying meal. Ordinarily, they would have been plain and unexciting, but the pure exhaustion she was experiencing dictated otherwise. "The one about social interaction."

"And?" the mastermind asked curiously, stuffing his final bite into his mouth and wiping off his hands, letting the crumbs fall into the water.

"I thought it was really interesting," came her truthful reply.

"Good." He nodded slowly, continuing to stare out into the distance. After a few seconds of slightly uncomfortable silence, he spoke up again. "I'm going to ask Sophie to marry me."

The blunt statement was unexpected, unusually open and, Abby realised, explained why Nate had been somewhat nervous for the trip so far.

"What?" she asked in shock.

"I'm going to propose to Sophie," he reiterated.

"Nate that's amazing!" An ecstatic grin spread across her face. "I'm so excited!"

"Yeah," he agreed as she hugged him around the shoulder, dropping the last of her pizza overboard.

"When, when are you going to do it? How are you going to do it?" the questions spat out of her faster than she could think of them. "Have you got a ring yet? Who else knows?"

Lifting his hand up, he asked her to be quiet. "I don't know, I have a few ideas, I was planning on buying one down at Martha's Vineyard, and so far just you."

"Just me?" she furrowed her brow at him. "Why just me?"

"Because," he looked back out into the horizon. "I need you to just, put the feelers out."

"With Sophie?

"With Sophie," he nodded. "You and her have a unique relationship and I think you should be able to, let me know where she's at."

"She loves you Nate, like _really_ loves you," she reassured.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said in a throaty tone. "But she's also vague." The explanation was vague and yet, strangely descriptive of their mysterious grifter.

"She's going to say yes, Nate."

"Either way I just need you to see what you can find out." He ignored her reassurance. "While I put some other things in motion," he continued in an almost whisper. "What?" He asked as she sat in silence and grinned at him. The smile twinkled in her eyes and spread from ear to ear.

"I'm just so excited."

He rolled his eyes and pulled his legs back onto the deck. Abby remained staring out into the ocean before, remembering something Nate had just said, jumping up and following the mastermind down below.

"Did you say something about buying a ring at Martha's Vineyard?"

"I did."

"We're going to Martha's Vineyard."

"We are."

"Do I get to help you pick out ring?" Another smile crept onto her face.

"That would be the plan."


	69. Uncle-Not-Uncle Nate

They arrived at Martha's Vineyard a few days later and without hesitation Abby had leapt to find the nearest jeweller. Partly because she was excited to help Nate out with his master plan, but also because, as much as she enjoyed spending time with Nate, the open sea wasn't really for her. There was too much salt, too much rocking and way too much wind. Dry land was definitely more her speed.

"So what type of ring were you thinking of?" Abby peered over the counter, examining the glistening jewels.

"Something vintage," Nate said after taking a considered moment.

"Not something…_pillé_?" [stolen], she whispered in French to avoid the questioning eye of the already suspicious shop owner. Their sea salted, wind-swept bodies wasn't quite in tune with the up market crowd that seemed to swarm to the Vineyard.

"No, I figure it's not too wise to start off a marriage with something dishonest."

"Ah, gotcha," Abby noted, running her fingers along the glass, causing the shop owner to glare at her with disapproving eyes. She glanced up at him in annoyance before lifting her hand off the bench and walking over to Nate. He was on the other side of the room, leaning over one of the displays with one hand resting behind his back. His other hand hovered, pointing at ring shoved away in a corner as though it had been forgotten.

"What about this one?" he asked, glancing up at the owner.

"Ah yes," he said with a slight accent. He pulled the keys from his belt, unlatched the case and grabbed the ring. He brushed it off on a cloth before placing it on a velvet pad in front of Nate. Abby looked at it from the sidelines as Nate picked it up and carefully examined it. "18 carat white gold, 1.6 carat diamond, 1940s I think. Is this for your mother?" He looked up from the ring towards Abby as he asked the question, adjusting his round spectacles.

"Sure, why not." An explanation would be much too difficult.

"What do you think?" Nate looked at Abby for advice.

"Eh," she screwed up her face. It was a beautiful ring, it just wasn't perfect. "I just," she let out a sigh "It's not Sophie."

"Okay then." Nate placed the ring back on the mat and began to scour the other rings in the case. Abby scanned the adjacent case, looking for something that would suit the glamor and taste of the grifter.

"That one," Nate exclaimed with absolute certainty as he pointed at the ring in the middle of the cabinet. It had been placed on its own separate stand, making its already huge diamond shine out even more. The owner looked pleased at Nate's suggestion. Abby took a step so she was sidled up to Nate and could get a better look at the jewellery. Leaning forward, she placed her palm on the glass.

The owner cleared his throat in disapproval at the smudges she was forming on his perfectly clear glass as he pulled out the ring. A large square cut diamond was set in a silver band which had been inlayed with smaller, though not at all small, diamonds; it was perfectly glamorous, just like Sophie. "This is also a gorgeous piece. This is a very nice piece hand crafted in Europe, circa 1920s. It has excellent clarity and excellent carat." The owner pushed the glasses down his nose a little as he brought the ring up to his face.

"It's perfect Nate," Abby said softly as the man passed the ring over to the mastermind. He took it carefully.

"I think it is," he agreed, spinning it around and seeing how it shined in the light. "I'll take it."

"Very good," the man replied, bouncing on his toes a little. He spun on his feet and pulled out a dark blue, velvet box as well as a finely made paper bag. "That'll be 55,000 dollars." He let out a pleased smile.

Abby cleared her throat a little, in shock at the price but Nate did not hesitate. He just pulled out his wallet and handed the man his silver credit card. "Thankyou Mr," the owner tilted his glasses back up to read the name on the card. "Gilmore. I'll just put this through." He turned away to go and make the payment.

"Sophie doesn't know about this identity does she?" Abby whispered as Nate passed the ring over to her. "Because if she does she will find out you bought this. That woman can smell diamonds from a mile away."

"No, she doesn't," Nate assured. "And that's why," he continued as Abby slid the ring onto her right ring finger, examining how it looked on her hand. "You have to take the ring."

"What?" Her eyes widened in surprise and, not wanting to take the responsibility of an immensely expensive ring, she pulled it off quickly and placed it back on the velvet mat.

"You said it yourself, Sophie will sniff it out, but if you have it-"

"Nate, it's like a billion dollar ring!"

"You'll be fine. Just shove it into a closet or something, just don't lose it."

"And while I'm travelling?"

"I'll keep it 'til then," he concluded after a moment of contemplation.

"Fine," she agreed begrudgingly. "But I'm not paying for it if something happens."

"Agreed," Nate nodded in affirmation, then tilted his head towards the owner. "Now, what mistake did he make?"

Abby let out another heavy sigh. "Really? Criminal training? Eliot's gonna love this," she muttered to herself.

"Go on," Nate pushed softly.

"He left us with the ring," she stated, without having to think; it was, after all, an obvious mistake. "We could have slipped him a fake credit card and then made out with the ring."

"And?" he asked hopefully as the man made his way back over to them.

"He left the ring cabinet unlocked."

"Good."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXx

"So now that you and Sophie are _together_ together," Abby commented once they had exited the store. Nate was clutching the bag containing the ring tightly in his hand while Abby peered into the windows of every shop they passed. Both ignored the grey clouds and slight drizzle that covered them in a light mist. They had been at sea for nearly a week and, honestly, the fresh water was a nice change; it wouldn't cover them with the same salty crust that sea water did. "I think Parker and Hardison are finally going to get together."

"You think so?"

"Mhm," she confirmed, cupping her hands around her eyes as she peered into a dark shop window. Unimpressed with what she saw, she moved on. "I bet by the time we get back, they're going to be an _actual _couple."

"What are we wagering here?" Nate asked seriously.

"You think they're not?" Came her response. To her, it seemed like the pair's sexual tension was finally going to snap.

"I give them six months, and I wager $50," he added surely.

"Six months?" Abby paused from walking, looked at Nate and bit her lip as she pondered. The fact that he had them at half a year worried her; he was a much better judge of character than she was and had much more experience with them, and with gambling. She was unsure but then remembered how Eliot had mentioned she'd be going to spend time with Parker and Hardison at the same time. That didn't mean it was a sure thing but it gave her the boost of confidence she needed to stick out her right hand. "I'll take that bet."

Nate looked both surprised and impressed as he shook her hand in agreement. "You know I'll hold you to that."

"I know," she replied as she turned back and began to look shops again. A newsagent caught her eye and she spun quickly on her feet to make towards the door. Nate followed her without question, the small bell chiming above their heads as they entered.

"Hey Nate," she began as she browsed the shelves. "Those questions you ask me sometimes, quizzing me about whatever, giving me books to read, why do you do that?"

"You enjoy reading those books," he replied, ignoring the heart of the question.

"Yes, but that's not the point," she smiled back as a she walked towards a stand various puzzle books, the bright, clashing colours catching her eyes.

"Because I see something in you," he began seriously. "You see the world differently, so does everybody on our team. You're smart, compassionate and definitely unique."

"That doesn't answer the question," she pushed again. She picked up a Sudoku book and began absent mindedly flipping through its pages.

"Yeah, yeah," Nate agreed softly, indicating that he had not finished. "When this started out you know," he began and Abby paused her flipping as Nate looked her directly, but softly, in the eyes. "I didn't push the team because I wanted them to be better as individuals. I wanted them to work better as a team so we could, you know, be more efficient. I still saw potential in them, but it was potential for my own gain. With you, I see the same potential; a person who is capable of doing fantastic things but with you, I don't want to help you gain skills or knowledge or anything to make the team more efficient, or so I can gain something, I want you to have all the opportunities in the world. As your family, as your uncle… not uncle," Abby smiled at the unusual term, "I think it's the right thing to do."

"Uncle not uncle," Abby let out a huff of a laugh. She turned back to the stack of books and continued to rifle through them. "I like that. Oh and, uh, I think I owe you a thank you." She picked up a pile of the small books and brought them over to the counter. "Without you, pushing them to be a team, pushing Eliot, I would have never gotten him back. So thankyou."

"You're welcome." He nodded a few times at her before clearing his throat and turning to face the cashier. "You getting all of these?"

"Gotta entertain myself on the plane somehow," she defended, pulling out her purse to pay. Nate quickly stopped her however, placing one hand in front of her as he pulled out his wallet with his other hand.

"I got it," he offered.

"Thanks Uncle-Not-Uncle Nate."

XXXXXXXX

_Next up, Sophie and Abby have some fun in good ol' London! _

_xx_


	70. London Town

Sophie greeted her with an excited wait on the other side of the security doors at the airport. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail, set off by a bright coloured bandanna wrapped around her head as a headband, high cut boots and retro looking blouse. She looked excited to see the teenager who, hitching her bag up on her shoulder with one hand and trailing her suitcase behind her, smiled and picked up her pace.

"Abby!" the grifter exclaimed, hugging the girl as she dropped her bags to say hello. "You look well."

Abby twirled on her feet with her hands out to her sides. She wore black court shoes, tights, a grey dress and her hair was flowing loosely around her shoulders.

"I learned from the best!" the teenager replied, grabbing her suitcase while Sophie picked up her satchel. Sophie had often lectured her about how clothes can make all the difference to how people treated her; travelling as an unaccompanied minor might cause people to ask unwanted questions (for them, questions were always unwanted) but the right clothes could easily cause people to look the other direction.

"And don't you forget it."

"So how's Nate?" Sophie asked as the pair walked outside into the London drizzle.

"Oh, I think that whole ordeal with Dubenich really did a number on him," Abby replied, laughing softly to herself.

"Oh?" There was concern in the grifter's voice.

"Good number," the teen elaborated quickly. "I think he's doing really, really well. So what did you have planned for us?" She asked, changing the topic quickly

"Well, Tara and I were actually-"

"Tara?" she moaned.

"What's wrong with Tara?" Sophie questioned in surprise, as she tried to hail down a cab.

"She doesn't like me," Abby confessed as three taxis pulled up to assist them. Sophie surveyed them for a second before deciding on the middle one.

"You've only met her once, how could you possibly know she doesn't like you?" She let out a laugh as the driver, without question, piled the bags into the trunk.

"Trust me Sophie, she doesn't like me." The driver opened the door and Sophie gestured the teenager in first.

"Yes, well, just hop in the cab sweetie."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"This view is amazing," Abby declared, standing out on the balcony staring at the Thames and Big Ben. Sophie walked by in the living room, hanging up the phone and joining the teenager in staring out into London.

"Mhm, it never gets old," she agreed, leaning down onto the railing. "You see there?" She pointed out to her right. "I grew up right over there."

"Really?" Abby stared out into the city curiously.

"Yup."

The history of all of the team was somewhat a mystery to Abigail, so she took the opportunity to pry. "You know, I don't know much about your childhood, or any of your childhoods really," pointed out softly.

"And for good reason Abigail, it doesn't do well to dredge up the past." There was a sombre moment of silence before Sophie spoke up again, perkier than before. "That was Tara on the phone, lucky for you, some hot shot called her up for goodness knows what so she won't be joining us."

"What a shame," she replied with sarcasm in her voice. Teasingly, Sophie shoved her arm lightly and Abby smiled.

"Anyway, would you like to go have some tea?" Sophie asked, pushing herself off the bannister and making her way into the flat.

"Fancy tea?" Abby replied curiously. She followed the grifter inside, grabbing her coat off the couch.

"Very fancy tea."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So why don't you all like talking about your past? Isn't the general rule that it's meant to be, I dunno, cathartic?" They were sitting in a coffee shop (coffee shop, not diner, Sophie had made that fact clear) in the middle of London. There were jewellery shops and high end boutiques on every corner and heel cladded, Prada wearing women danced into every store. Sophie had been right; this was definitely fancy tea.

"It hurts to bring up the past sometimes Abigail," Sophie indulged her, sipping lightly on her tea. After the white porcelain cup had parted from her lips she toyed with it in her hand as her elbows rested on the table. "And it doesn't do well to dwell on things you can't change. You can only look forward."

Abby pondered what she had said for a moment. "Well that's quite poetic isn't it?"

"Yes," Sophie agreed. "Now, tell me Abigail, if you were to take down a corrupt Russian jewel dealer, how would you do it?"

"I'm sorry?" Abby choked, her eyes widening. Nervously, she glanced around her, checking to see if she'd drawn the attention of any of the other upper class aristocrats seated around them. Sophie, on the other hand, was perfectly calm, taking a sip of her tea as she smiled coyly

"Tara and I," Sophie began to elaborate, "We were meant to be doing a job but she pulled out."

"Job doing what?"

"This auctioneer's been selling off fake jewels on the black market, and has been getting in the way of a jeweller friend of mine. I told him I'd help him out." Sophie pulled her cup to her lips and sipped at it delicately, holding the saucer below it in her other hand.

"So we need to what? Get him arrested?" Abby whispered harshly.

"Something like that," Sophie agreed. "We need to find some jewels that can pass as Crown Jewels."

"Crown Jewels? Like of England?"

"Don't be silly, Crown Jewels of Russia." With that moderate bombshell she gestured out the window. "So, what's your plan?"

"What's _my_ plan?" She clanged the cup down with such force that the tea spilt a little bit onto the saucer.

"Yes, your plan," Sophie confirmed as though there was nothing to it.

"My plan? To get some jewels? Sophie are you insane?" Her voice raised slightly, attracting the attention of some of the surrounding patrons.

Sophie placed her saucer down elegantly, ignoring the stares of the high class aristocrats sitting around them. "Well, it's not that _out there. _A girl has to start somewhere."

Abby looked down at her cup and muttered in disbelief, mostly to herself. "Did I miss something? Step into an alternate reality or a weird TV show?"

"No," Sophie smiled. "But with all you've been involved these last few months, I just think you need to be equipped."

"Equipped? Like learning how to steal jewels?"

"Equipped like understanding how our lives work and being prepared to deal with it," she replied sincerely "And besides," Sophie continued, seeing the sombre, somewhat anxious look on Abby's face. "Who else am I meant to teach? Who else is going to be my legacy?"

"Well, things are going well between you and Nate aren't they?" She hinted, letting out a smile. Sophie had set herself up for that one, so the teen took the moment to spy for Nate. Unfortunately, a begrudging look from the grifter was all the reply she got.

"_Anyway," _she declared, clearly changing the subject. "How would _you _get the jewels?"

Abby slumped back in her chair, stared out the window and bit her lip as she pondered the issue. Sophie waited patiently and began once again to sip at her tea.

"Well you can't steal them," she decided thinking out loud. Sophie smiled at her to continue. "Because any auctioneer worth his salt is gonna know if some jewels like that stolen, and then if they turn up on his desk, he's gonna get suspicious that we're selling him the stolen jewels."

"So then?" the grifter prompted, setting down her cup and pouring herself some more tea from the teapot.

"Well, either grab some out of storage, or buy them, but then how do you get a payout? I mean, I know that's not exactly our mandate but it doesn't exactly help losing money." Abby paused, waiting for Sophie to finish up the thought. She did not and only continued to sip at her tea while staring Abby in the eye. The teenager sighed and continued to think. She was drawing a blank until she remembered something Parker had said to her back when they were running the job on the Mako, and Abby and the thief were sourcing down computers.

"Do we have all of our mark's card and bank details?" she asked slyly.

"Of course we do."

Abby flicked her eyes out to the elegant shops and shoppers out the window. "Would you like to do some shopping?"

Sophie, for one last time, sat down her teacup and hooked her bag over her shoulder. "Abigail Spencer, if I ever say no to that question, shoot me."

* * *

><p><em>Sooo, don't know what happened with the formatting first time around, but (hopefully) it's all fixed now!<em>

_Thanks to dsnygal for pointing that out!_

_xx A Lyrical Dreamer_


	71. Sophie's Grift

They returned to Sophie's apartment several short hours later, an excessive amount of bags in hand. They dumped them on the couch before Sophie pulled the suit she had bought Abigail out of its bag. She tossed the grey skirt and suit jacket across the room and the teenager, after catching it with ease, pulled it off the hanger.

"Shall we change?" Sophie invited.

"Sure," Abby smiled then walked into her room to change. The skirt wrapped tightly around her hips and brushed just above her knees. A white blouse was tucked under a thin black belt and, after flicking her body around and checking the fit in the mirror in front of her, she nodded at herself and pulled on the matching jacket. She buttoned it up, frowned, and then unhitched it, letting it flow around her hips. She swooped her hair up into a ponytail and walked out the door.

"Sophie, do you have shoes I can borrow?"

The grifter was standing in the mirror in the foyer holding to sets of earrings up to both years, unsure of what suited best.

"Third cupboard on the left," she replied, pointing Abby into her bedroom. Abby pranced off and pulled a pair of black pumps from her wardrobe, then hopped back out as she struggled to pull them on her feet. "Which earrings say 'rich but not quite so classy'?" She turned so Abby could see her both ears. Abby stared at the set of long diamond hoops and small dainty pearls, then contemplated which matched the sleek hair and extensions and her cream coloured dress.

"I say the diamond ones." Sophie turned back to the mirror, checked her suggestion, then nodded and put them on.

"So now what's the plan?" Abby asked, sitting down on the arm of the couch.

"I dunno. You tell me."

Abby let out a huff and furrowed her brow. "What is it with you wanting me to plan this?"

"Because you can," she explained briefly. "Just think about it logically."

"What's to think about? You go in, sell him the jewels then expose him as a fake," she rattled off as Sophie sat down on the couch. Abby lifted her legs up and spun her feet around so they were now resting on the seat cushion rather than the floor. That was until the grifter frowned and brushed her feet off the seat. The teenager did so begrudgingly and slid into the gap between Sophie and the arm.

"Right, but for him to buy the jewels and then resell them with absolute certainty he-"

"Needs to believe that you're the real deal, so he believes the diamonds are the real deal," Abby finished off for her. It was a simple enough plan when you thought about it, but Abby sensed Sophie had more to tell, as she often did.

"He needs to believe the story we sell is real," Sophie elaborated, confirming the teen's suspicions.

"And what story would that be?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sophie scanned the room with eagle eyes as she weighed a glass of bubbling champagne in her hand. The expensive, affluent air that she carried matched everyone in the room but, like she always could when she needed to, she stood out. Abby, waiting more or less patiently in the car, penned it down to her charm, how she carried herself and something uniquely Sophie.

"Have you spotted him yet?" the teen asked with her bare feet leaning up on the dashboard. Their lack of Hardison and electronic equipment had left Abby with no visuals and she was relying on Sophie for information.

The grifter took a sip of her champagne and tilted her head to get a better view of the other room. "Mhm," she confirmed. "I'm going up to talk to him now. Are you ready with the phone?"

Abby held her phone up to nobody. "Ready as anything."

"Good," Sophie declared walking up to the short, pudgy balding man in a three-piece suit with a pink shirt. He was swinging back and forth on his feet, laughing with a group of people Sophie assumed were some minor acquaintances; he looked uncomfortable and glanced awkwardly from side to side as he laughed, looking for approval and recognition.

"Mr Grant," Sophie smiled, strengthening her British accent, then looked down briefly at her shoes. "My name is Annabelle Carrington, I was wondering if I could have a word with you about," she flicked her eyes about and lowered her voice, "a sale you might be interested in."

Through lack of stimulating conversation, the crowd dissipated.

"What can I help you with?" He scanned Sophie's curves and looked up at her lusciously.

"I have some pieces to sell, very exclusive but also, very under the table," she explained, lowering her voice seductively and stroking her champagne flute with her thumb. It was purposefully evocative and extremely effective. For the most part.

"I'm, uh, sorry, Mrs Carrington," he apologies, bowing his head and doing his best not to make eye contact as he searched the room for someone to mingle with. "It's not my business to do that sort of business with strangers.

"Please Mr Grant, you're my last hope," she pleaded, lightly grabbing his forearm as he tried to walk away. She stepped a little closer so she was nearly whispering in his ear. "Plus, what I have to sell is very rare and very, very," she paused and lowered her voice once more. Her alluring tone drew him in closer, "exciting."

He lingered for a moment then pulled away. "I, I'm sorry I really can't." He turned his back and walked away.

"Russian jewels," she spoke clearly and with a degree of importance. Grant jolted to a halt at the news, clearly intrigued. But the fact that he didn't turn around showed he was still hesitant. "A friend of mine has already sold through you if that helps?" She craned her neck so she could see his face a little better. His weight shifted but still he did not move.

Sophie let out an audible sigh and opened up her purse. She pulled out a business card and shut the clutch with a commanding snap. Her heels clacked as she walked up to face the mark and handed him her card.

"If you decide to help out, here's my card." He stared at her name and number as Sophie walked sauntered away, sipping back the last of her champagne and placing it on an unsuspecting waitress' tray as she did. "You're up Abby," she declared, slipping back into her standard tongue.

Back in the car, Abby fumbled for her phone which she had been spinning with her hands. "Got it," she replied then clicked the predialed number, flicked her hair back and sat up straight as though the posture helped her snap into character.

It only rang twice before it was picked up by a woman with a British accent that contained soft hints of Russian. "This is Ellen." The soft humming of violins hung in the background. The same sounds could be heard from Sophie's earbud.

"Yes, my name Jennifer Cook," said Abigail, her voice clean and crisp. "I've heard through the grapevine that someone is trying to sell some Russian… artefacts."

"Go on," Ellen exclaimed, she seemed intrigued and, with her heels clacking, she walked over towards Grant, her boss.

"Now I'm not going to beat around the bush, we both have business to attend to I'm sure, so I'm going to be very clear," she paused for dramatic effect, "I want what they're selling and I will do anything I can to get it. So back off."

"Excuse me?" Any little cordiality that had originally been in her voice had now dissipated.

"You heard me," Abby too dropped the civility from her voice so it was commanding. "I want those jewels miss," she heard Ellen gasp at the patronising title, "don't get in my way." She hung up almost instantly arched her back to release the character. Then, with a deep breath, she settled down and turned her attention to Sophie.

"How was that?"

"Perfect," she praised, unpinning her hair as a grey haired gentlemen held the front door open for her. She only gave him the slightest recognition.

"So the story you sold was to make him not feel guilty from buying from you, and the story I sold was to put on the pressure and push them into buying it?" she confirmed.

"Yup, time pressure, just like your car salesman or realtors," Sophie confirmed. She had explained briefly her reasoning before, but everything was still a little over her head.

"How long do you think before he calls?"

Sophie had reached the car and snapped open the door, startling the teenager.

"Not long I should think," she declared just as, almost fortuitously, her phone rang. She smiled proudly at Abigail, then brought the cell close to her ear. "Annabelle Carrington." The name rolled off her tongue as though it had been hers her entire life. Selling the rest of the con was as effortless as selling them her name.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

_So after a moderate hiatus, I'm back!_

_not much else to say, other than hello and thankyou for your patience!_

_xx A Lyrical dreamer_


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